


Second Skin

by Shaples



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Animal Abuse, Animal Transformation, Body Horror, Doctor/Patient, First Meetings, Fluff, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Build, Urban Fantasy, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:19:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 62,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaples/pseuds/Shaples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abe Takaya works at a clinic that specializes in rescuing, treating, and rehabilitating injured werewolves. His latest patient is not in good shape.</p><p>Or: even in another universe, Abe is very concerned about hydration, and struggles with human emotion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawberries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawberries/gifts).



> Happy Halloween lovelies! 
> 
> As a note up front: I've tagged this fic for "animal abuse," because the premise relies heavily on humans being abused while in animal form, but all of the actual abuse takes place off the page, before the start of the story. That said, the results of the harm are there and Important, so if that squicks you, you are forewarned! Also, yes, I do realize how out of place the "fluff" tag looks with the rest of this list, but let's be real - this is ME we're talking about. 
> 
> This fic came directly from the depths of pheonee's Oofuri fic wishlist. I was so inspired, I started writing immediately after I saw it, and as per the usual, my little drabble idea got way out of hand. So, without further ado: Part 1 of Oofuri: Werewolf Style.

Abe pushed back his hood and ran a hand through his hair. It was raining pretty hard outside, but this early in the morning he’d been able to park close to the clinic and hadn’t gotten too wet in the time it had taken him to sprint across the sidewalk and get inside. He locked the front door behind him and started flipping on the lights. Suyama would be there to open up the front desk soon, but Abe turned up the heat and flipped on the coffee machine anyway; no reason to make him walk into a gloomy, pre-dawn room, too. He grabbed one of yesterday’s bagels out of the mini-fridge and took a (stale, chewy) bite of it before heading through the doors into the back.

At this hour, half the lights were turned off, casting the white walls and white tile in a sickly, shadowy almost-green. Abe rubbed his eyes and sighed, then shrugged out of his hoodie and hung it up by the door. He took a moment to finish his bagel, then washed his hands from fingertips to elbows in the big stainless steel sink by the door. He could hear movement over by the refrigeration units, so once he’d scrubbed his skin pink and dried off, he headed in that direction.

“So what’s on the slate for today?” he asked, and was deeply satisfied when Haruna jerked in surprise, bumping his head on the underside of the counter.

“Oh, Taka, glad you’re here,” Haruna said, rubbing his head and turning to face him. And, shit, he knew that look, that _smile_. Haruna was about to give him an unspeakably shitty job. Shouldn’t have snuck up on him. “We had a busy night last night.”

“What happened?”

Haruna pushed himself to his feet, wiping his hands off on his pants before picking a clipboard up off the counter and passing it over to Abe. “Cops broke up another illegal fighting ring. This one had a fucking _bear_ if you can believe it.”

Abe looked up from the clipboard, his shoulders tensing, “I’m not going anywhere near a fucking werebear.”

“No, no, she went to a different clinic. I need you to look after this guy,” he said, reaching over and flipping a few pages on the clipboard, then pointing. “They had half a dozen wolves, all doped up to keep them in canine form. Most of them calmed down once we unchained them, but this guy, I think he’d been there for a while. Momoe said she had to tranq him just to get him in the van, and as soon as he came to, he started fighting.” Haruna held up a hand, displaying a mostly-healed bite mark on his palm.

Abe raised his eyebrows. It took good reflexes to get the drop on Haruna, “You aren’t keeping him sedated?”

Haruna shook his head, “Dr. Shiga is afraid putting him under again in his condition might kill him. We managed to give him a quick exam, but that’s about it.”

Abe nodded slowly, skimming the patient information Haruna had given him, but it was mostly question marks and blank spaces. “Any idea who he is?”

Haruna shook his head, “Won’t know until he turns back, if then. Shiga thinks he’s late adolescent, maybe early 20s, but from the look of him he might have been raised in captivity.”

“So there might not be much of a person left, even if he lives long enough to get the drugs out of his system.”

“Always the optimist, Taka. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Abe put the clipboard down on the counter and sighed, following after him, “Why me?”

Haruna flashed him a sharp smile, “Cuz it won’t kill you if he takes a chunk out of you.” Abe ground his teeth. It was an accepted inevitability in this line of work that, sooner or later, you were going to get infected. It was… a less standard practice for the lead doctor to bite a new hire on their first day because they were short on people who could take a beating. Abe still hadn’t quite forgiven Haruna for it, either, especially when his “condition” had nearly gotten him kicked out of med school. “Besides, Tajima and Hanai are going to have their hands full with the friendly ones.” He stopped in front of one of the big metal doors in the far back of the clinic. Abe tried to look through the barred window, but couldn’t make out anything inside.

“How long until he starts turning back?”

“Few days?” Haruna said. “Depends on how long they were dosing him, and with what. We’re still waiting on his blood work.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Get him used to you. We need to get him hydrated, first off, and fed if you can manage it. Shinooka’s coming in early to put together something a little more palatable than water, but he hasn’t moved since we put him in there a couple hours ago.” Haruna unlatched the door and pulled it open, the hinges creaking heavily.

“He have a name?”

Haruna shrugged, “Tags said Mihashi.”

“Alright,” he said, stepping over the threshold.

“Scream if he starts trying to eat you,” Haruna said, shoving the door closed behind him and barring it. Abe wished he were joking.

He took a steadying breath, letting his eyes adjust to the relative dimness of the holding cell as he listened to Haruna’s footsteps retreat down the hall. There were small windows up near the ceiling, but they only let in a trickle of weak, gray light and the sound of rain, leaving most of the cell in dusky shadows. Even in the darkness, though, he could see his patient – Mihashi – curled up tight in the corner, pressed so hard against the wall that he would have pushed right through it if it’d been made of anything less sturdy than steel reinforced concrete. With a full coat, he was probably beautiful, that rare tawny auburn color that Abe had only seen in pictures. As it was, though, the poor pup was a master class in neglect and malnutrition, every bone visible beneath his scant, dull fur, the bald patches of his skin showing huge bruises and ugly, bloody wounds – the smaller ones from fleas, the larger ones more likely from teeth or claws.

Abe sighed and squatted down just inside the doorway. Other than the two of them, the room was empty except for a big bowl of water sitting, untouched, in the middle of the floor. The concrete and cinderblock room was about as inhospitable as inhospitable could get, not exactly the best setting for calming down someone who had been held prisoner for god only knew how long, but there wasn’t much else that could hold up to the strength of a shapeshifter in a rage. An angry werewolf could tear through a normal wall, even one as pathetic and mangy as…

“Mihashi,” he said, his voice as calm and gentle as he could make it. On the other side of the room, the wolf whined. Abe wasn’t the right person for this job, and he knew it. Tajima had always been better with the scared ones; Abe usually got stuck with the fighters. That Haruna had put him in here meant he thought Mihashi was all but a lost cause, implicit permission to muscle in on him if it meant keeping him alive. But it didn’t take a fragile, sensitive wolf-whisperer like Sakaeguchi to know that was the last thing Mihashi needed. “Hey,” he said again, “Mihashi.”

The wolf curled up tighter, pressing desperately into the corner and scraping a claw against the wall. “Well, you know your name, but you probably aren’t a big fan of the people who call you that, huh?” Abe sighed and sat down crosslegged on the floor, folding his arms across his chest. He was shitty at small talk, hated it under the best of circumstances, and this was not that. “For what it’s worth, I’m not going to hurt you.” He paused, realizing that if Haruna really did think Mihashi had been raised in captivity, he probably hadn’t bothered to explain to him what was going on. He reached up and rubbed his temples, “Maybe you know this already, I dunno, but the people who hurt you… the people who made you fight, they’re gone now, and we aren’t going to let them hurt you again. We’re going to help you turn back into a human, but it might take a few days before the drugs start to leave your system.”

Nothing. Not that he’d expected anything else. The wolf was obviously trembling, and watching him cower there like that, it was hard to imagine that there was a human somewhere inside him. Then again, with his snout pressed to the wall and his tail between his legs, it was hard to see the wolf, either. What the hell had Haruna been thinking? Abe was no psychologist, he was barely a fucking lab technician; he just happened to have a neat bite mark on his forearm and genetics that had taken well to the virus. How the hell was he going to get Mihashi out of that corner without physically dragging him? He clenched and unclenched his fists, suppressing the desire to punch Haruna in the face by reminding himself of all the times that instinct had wound up with him flat on his back on the floor, a set of sharp teeth on his throat.

As Abe’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the exact diameter of Mihashi’s self-imposed captivity, gouges carved into the cinderblocks and the concrete floor. They weren’t deep, not much more than scraped stone and nail marks, but enough that Abe knew this wolf was stronger than he looked. He was a fighter in the most literal sense, but if he’d stayed alive long enough to get as worn down and roughed up as he was… Abe chewed his lip. Assuming Mihashi hadn’t spent his whole life as a wolf, he’d probably been trapped in a canine body for, what? Weeks? Months? Years? He couldn’t even guess; Mihashi was in the worst shape of any wolf he’d ever seen up close.

The fighting rings grabbed kids off the streets and turned them, trapping them in their wolf forms the first time they shifted and throwing them straight into the pit. Most of those kids barely lasted a single fight. The pups Hanai and Tajima were looking after were people that had maybe gone a round or two with that she-bear, assuming they’d been blooded at all. People who had been in captivity for a few days, maybe a week. Two at most.

But Mihashi had been stuck in his wolf form long enough for the drugs and neglect to overwhelm his natural healing ability. That meant he’d fought, and won. The experience hadn’t left him crazed and violent, either. He’d fought captivity, but he hadn’t made a run for the door when Haruna opened it, and he hadn’t made a move to attack Abe. That meant Mihashi was a survivor. He was in there, somewhere, and he was scared, but he didn’t want to die.

“I know you can understand me,” he said, even though he wasn’t a hundred percent sure it was true. “We didn’t get a good look at you after we brought you in – good job taking a chunk out of Haruna, by the way, he deserved it. Anyway, we weren’t able to do a full exam before you started snapping, but it doesn’t take a PhD to see that you’re dehydrated.” He paused, giving his words a moment to – he hoped – sink in. “When was the last time you had something to drink? Do you even remember?” The wolf was still pressed tight to the wall, but he’d gone still, his head shifting minutely to the side, one ear turned in Abe’s direction. So he _did_ understand.

He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back against the door and stretching his legs out, “Haruna thinks you might have been like this since you were a pup, but I think he’s wrong. I think you remember what it’s like to be a human. I think you remember what it’s like to take that first sip of a glass of ice cold water on a hot day.” He paused, considering the temperature of the room, the gloom spilling in through the windows, “Or maybe that first taste of a cup of cocoa on a snowy afternoon, the way it warms you up from the inside out.”

Mihashi growled. It was faint, just an irritated little rumble, but a smile tugged at the corners of Abe’s lips. He scooted away from the wall, pushing the water dish slowly toward Mihashi with his foot. “If you’re thirsty, drink something.” He stretched out as far as he could, keeping himself low to the ground and as non-threatening as possible, even though he could feel himself infringing on Mihashi’s space. When he heard the edge of a threat inch into the growl he stopped, stilled, froze in place. He’d resigned himself to the probability that he was going to get bitten at least once today, but he didn’t feel the need to invite it, and he definitely didn’t want to make himself a threat. When Mihashi went quiet, Abe withdrew, _slowly_.

“I’m not going to try to touch you,” he said. “I was just putting it where you could get to it.” The bowl was still farther away than he thought Mihashi would be willing to venture, but at least it was closer than it had been. Abe was pretty sure the cell wasn’t big enough for Mihashi to feel comfortable with him still in it, but if he hadn’t been willing to drink on his own after hours alone, Abe leaving probably wasn’t going to change that. He could maybe give him a little more space, though. The door to the cell was in the center of the wall, and Abe got his back up against it again before slowly scooting to the side, inching himself into the corner diagonally across from Mihashi – as far away as he could get without actually leaving the room.

He leaned back into the corner, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. In the time it had taken him to relocate, Mihashi had moved, just a little, just enough to look at him. His snout was matted with blood, and in the darkness, his eyes were molten gold, more vivid and luminous than a real wolf’s, and a rare color for a shapeshifter. He looked _fierce_ , and for a moment Abe felt pinned under that gaze, like those hot amber eyes were seeing right through him. His breath hitched, and he stared back, meeting that still, inhuman gaze. He was surprised when Mihashi looked away, ducking his head submissively and whining, the sound bringing Abe back to reality.

Shit. He hadn’t meant to get into a pissing contest with a patient, but of course Mihashi would know what he was, and in his wolf form, animal senses heightened, their stare down was nothing but a battle for dominance. Damnit. Well, if Mihashi was submitting to him, he might as well use it. “If you want to get out of this cell,” he said, with as much calm poise and assertiveness as he could muster, “you’re going to have to do exactly what I tell you. I know how to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let me.”

Mihashi whined, clawing again at the wall.

Abe took a steadying breath, “You need to drink something, or you’re going to die. I’m not going to force you. You have to make the choice for yourself.”

He let the words hang in the air, stayed still and quiet and just watched. A minute passed, then two, maybe more, but eventually Mihashi started to move. It was subtle at first, just a shifting in the gloom, almost a trick of the light, but before he realized it, Mihashi had stood up to his full height and turned to face him. He was bigger than Abe had expected, tall and broad despite his leanness, with paws that said he wasn’t near his full size yet. This time, he was keeping his head lowered, but even with the submissive posture, even without the challenge in his eyes, there was something impossibly majestic about him. Abe felt the pull of acknowledgement, an answering call deep in the pit of his chest as his own wolf stirred and started paying attention.

He clenched his hand in his shirt over his heart, forcing his breathing to stay calm and even despite the rumble of anticipation rattling his bones.

Mihashi took a step forward, claws clicking against the concrete floor, and Abe’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure where the scared, broken creature had gone, or what he had done right to lure him away from his hiding place, but Mihashi took another step, and another, and lowered his head to the water dish…

…then took the edge of it in his teeth and lifted it up, dumping the water all over the floor.

“What the fuck!” Abe shouted, leaping to his feet before he could check the instinct, and only barely missing the water as it spilled across the floor toward him.

And the golden wolf was gone, yelping and whining and shoving himself back into the corner.

“Jesus Christ,” Abe said, skirting around the growing puddle, “Why did you-?” He stopped himself mid-tirade, because none of what had just happened made sense. Mihashi was thirsty, practically dying of thirst, thirsty enough to be pissed about it. And he’d been left alone for hours, hadn’t gone near the water. And he was too scared now even to move, but he’d mustered the courage to dump-

The water. There was something wrong with the water. He marched over to the water dish and snapped it up off the floor, ignoring the sound of Mihashi scrambling against the wall. There wasn’t much water left in the plastic container, but he held it up to his nose and took a big whiff. Even in his human form, he could smell it. It wasn’t just water. He swore and threw the container against the wall, hard enough that it cracked and ricocheted, bouncing along the floor before rolling to a stop. Then he turned back towards Mihashi and dropped down to his knees, bowing forward and pressing his forehead to the wet floor, speaking through gritted teeth, “I didn’t know.” He was seething with anger, so furious he could feel the edges of himself blurring into something less human. “I swear to god, I didn’t know.”

Haruna, with his two PhDs and years of experience, with his loyal pack and private clinic, was a fucking moron, and Abe was going to crack his smug, stupid face open. He hadn’t been able to pick out any one scent in the bottom of the dish; probably antibiotics, some kind of anti-inflammatory – everything they would have injected him with if they’d had the chance to. Instead, they’d put it in his fucking water. Mihashi had gone still, and quiet.

“That’s how they kept you there, right? Dosing your water?” Abe clenched his fists, not looking up from the floor. “I can’t imagine anything more insulting than someone trying to force you to drink tainted water, and I am so, _so_ sorry, but I swear, I didn’t know.” Without so much as thinking to mention it to him, Haruna had turned Abe into Mihashi’s second captor, had given the poor, abused wolf a good fucking reason to distrust him before he’d ever even laid eyes on him. Abe slammed his fist into the ground, the edges of his voice fuzzy and rough so his words came out as half a growl, “I’m going to fix this. I promise I’m going to fix this.”

He shoved himself abruptly to his feet, ignoring the wet spots soaked into the knees of his pants, stormed over to the big metal door, and started hammering his fist against it.  
  
It was only a moment before Shinooka’s face appeared in the small square window on the door, “Abe? What’s-?” She gasped, taking an instinctive step back, and Abe realized his eyes probably weren’t the right color anymore. She recovered quickly, faster than most humans would, “Er, I mean, what do you need? Did something happen?”

Abe took a slow breath, censoring the laundry list of things he had to say about Haruna and trying to rein in his temper. After a moment, fairly certain that he looked more person-like, he said, “Everything’s fine. I need you to bring me two liters of hot beef broth and a clean dish to put it in. And I don’t care what Haruna told you, don’t put anything in it, okay? Nothing. If he wants to argue about it, he can take it up with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Shinooka said cautiously. “You’re sure everything’s alright?”

“It will be once I get some liquids in my patient.”

She took the exit line for what it was, giving him a small bow before scampering back down the hallway. Abe watched her go, then sighed and let his head fall heavily against the door. What a fucking disaster. The water Mihashi had spilled had mostly worked its way across the sloped floor and down the drain, but it had left the concrete damp in its wake, and now that he’d started to calm down, Abe realized that getting his clothes wet had been pretty stupid. After a minute he turned to face Mihashi and squatted down, his back leaned against the metal door. The wolf was still, well, cowering, but this time he’d pressed himself into the corner back first, and was crouched with his eyes fixed on Abe.

“I’m sorry,” Abe said again, running a frustrated hand back through his hair. “If I could just let you out of here, I would. You’d probably take care of yourself just fine, huh?” He glanced up at Mihashi, meeting the steady fire of his gaze. This time, he was the first one to look away.

A few minutes later, there was a clank of metal behind him, and Abe shuffled out of the way as Shinooka opened the slot at the base of the door. She passed him a big bowl that was identical to the one he’d smashed against the wall, then two very full plastic pitchers. “There’s nothing in these, right? Because I’m going to drink as much of it as it takes to get him to relax.”

He watched her closely, looking for any flicker of hesitation or alarm, but Shinooka just shook her head, “I trust your judgment.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I owe you one.”

“Just doing my job,” she said, giving him a wink before sliding the little window shut and locking it from the outside.

The holding cell was cold enough that steam was pouring out of the tops of the two pitchers, despite the fact that the liquid in them was just shy of actually being hot. Abe put the dish on top of one of the pitchers and lifted them both, slowly crossing the room and sitting down on a dry patch of concrete, about as close too Mihashi as he dared to get. Then he set the dish on the floor and poured broth to it, doing it slowly and making sure Mihashi was watching.

He picked the dish up and swirled the liquid around, then tipped it forward so Mihashi could see how much was in it. “Cheers,” he said, then lifted the dish to his lips and started drinking, careful not to let the liquid spill. Thankfully, Shinooka was both a good cook and an honest person, because despite the fact that he was drinking it out of a doggie bowl, the broth was delicious, and distinctly not laced with any kind of narcotic. He drained the dish dry, then showed it to Mihashi again, making sure he saw that it was Actually Empty before setting it down and filling it again. “Now, do you want some, should I keep drinking it, or are you going to let it get cold while you wait to see if I keel over?”

Of course, Mihashi couldn’t answer; he just watched him, levelly, as Abe held up his hands and scooted backwards along the floor until his back bumped up against the far wall. When Mihashi kept staring at him, Abe said, “This is as far away as I’m getting, because you got the floor wet. Take it or leave it.”

Mihashi groaned, a low, displeased sound, but it sounded so much like Abe’s big baby of a husky that he couldn’t help but laugh.

As soon as he did, Mihashi fixed him with the same steady, untrusting glare, and Abe said gently, “Just drink it. It’s really good. Shinooka’s a hell of a cook.”

It took a few minutes, but the dwindling steam rising from the bowl finally drew Mihashi in, enticing him away from the safety of his corner. When he prodded his paw against it, Abe was terrified for a moment that he was going to dump this bowl, too, but Mihashi just pulled it closer, then leaned down and sniffed at it. Evidently satisfied that he wasn’t being poisoned this time, Mihashi finally bent down to drink.

And, boy, did he drink. He drained the dish until he was pushing it around the floor with his nose and tongue, then switched to the pitcher Abe had left sitting beside it. “You’re going to get stuck,” Abe mused as Mihashi lowered his snout into the pitcher and started lapping up more hot broth. Sure enough, Mihashi slid his head into the pitcher as he chased after the liquid, and by the time the pitcher was empty, it was also firmly anchored on his head. “I told you so,” Abe said.

Mihashi backed up a few steps, shaking his head experimentally from side to side, but the plastic container was wedged on pretty tight. It was only funny for the moment it took for Mihashi to shift from confused to panicked and start shaking his head in earnest. “Whoa, hey,” Abe said, leaping to his feet. He hesitated to rush over to him, because he knew Mihashi wasn’t going to be happy when the pitcher went flying, but when he yelped and started batting at his face with his paw, Abe flew into action, “Hey, hey, let me help you.” He had to dodge the swipe of a paw, but he managed to grab onto the handle of the pitcher and pull it free.

Abe backed up and didn’t stop until his back was against a wall, but Mihashi didn’t lash out at him, he just scooted into the nearest corner – the one opposite where he’d started – and curled up there, looking miserable. Abe sighed, slumping back down against the floor, “I tried to warn you.” The wolf made that pathetic grumpy groan again, and Abe breathed out a laugh, “For what it’s worth, it’s happened to me too.” He leaned his head back into the corner, closing his eyes, “When I first turned, I was a trainwreck. You probably don’t know any other shifters – or, hell, anything about shifting back and forth, I guess? But the wolf side of me is really strong, so my first few full moons, I was just… ravenous and wild. And stupid. Like there was a voice in my head fighting against everything I told my body to do.” He cracked open one eye to look across the room at Mihashi. “It gets better, though. I can only imagine how weird it’s going to feel when you turn back, but you’ll get used to it again.”

Mihashi was quiet, still curled up tight, but he wasn’t shaking anymore.

Abe puffed out a sigh and closed his eyes again, “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better, at least. I can get you food, if you think you can eat, or something else to drink in a little while if you’re still thirsty and your stomach can handle it. Once we get your blood work back and know exactly what drugs are in your system, I might be able to give you some kind of antidote to help speed up your transition, but it would mean having you drink it, or having you let me inject it, and I won’t do that unless you want me to.” He paused, considering it, then added, “If they had you drugged for as long as I think they did, though, it’s going to suck either way, but it might go faster with a little help. Just so you know your options.”

* * *

They stayed like that, in the world’s slowest, least thrilling standoff, for _hours_ before someone rapped lightly on the door to the holding cell and slid open the little window at the bottom. “Yo, Abe, we got the blood work back.”

Abe rubbed his eyes, yawning so wide his jaw cracked, before hauling himself out of the corner and crawling over to the door. “Thanks, Tajima,” he said, taking the clipboard he passed through. “What’s the word?”

“Nasty stuff, and your pup got the worst of it. Haruna thinks the others’ll be out by tomorrow morning, but with the amount of crap in his system, your boy’s going to be coming off it right before the full moon.”

“Shit,” Abe breathed, flipping through Mihashi’s updated chart. When he got to the blood work, he frowned, “Who the hell were these assholes? I’ve never seen a cocktail like this.”

“Dumbasses. From the look of it, they just shot whoever up with whatever whenever they had it. Your boy’s lucky they didn’t accidentally land on a lethal combo.”

“They probably did,” Abe said, “just not for him. You have a pen?”

Tajima handed him one through the small opening in the door, and Abe flipped through the pages on the clipboard until he found a blank one, then pulled it out and clipped it to the top of the stack. He’d been hoping that there was just one suppressant built up in Mihashi’s system, because that would have been easy to treat. With this many different substances in play, he had to worry about all their side effects and all the ways each of them interacted with other drugs. It was going to be hard to counteract them, but if he didn’t, a painful three-day detox would turn into an ugly week shifting in and out of human form when the full moon took hold of him. “Shit,” he muttered, sliding the pen into the clip of the clipboard. “Could you bring me some more paper, and have Shinooka bring me lunch and some more beef broth?”

Tajima nodded, “Sure thing.” He clapped Abe on the shoulder and grinned at him, “Don’t worry too much. This pup’s a fighter, I can tell.”

Abe let out a weak laugh, “You hear he nipped Haruna?”

“Yeah, like a champ. We should try to hire him when he comes around. You could use a friend with good reflexes.”

Abe held up his middle finger, and Tajima laughed, slamming the little window shut and trumping off down the hall. Abe retrieved his pen and tapped the tip of it against his paper, thinking. After a moment, he said, “Did you catch all that?”

Mihashi let out a gruff, halfhearted little growl.

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t want me doing science to you. But you really don’t want those drugs to wear off during the full moon.”

Mihashi sighed, emphatically.

Abe started copying down the list of drugs in Mihashi’s system, listing each in its own neat little box on the page, then started writing down everything he knew about each of them and how to counteract them. He stopped only when Shinooka came with food, walking cautiously over to the abandoned water dish and refilling it with steamy hot broth before resuming his post next to the door. He held his sandwich in one hand, taking bites whenever he remembered it was there, but mostly focused on his notes. He wasn’t officially a doctor yet, but this was exactly what he’d been training to do.

When Mihashi lifted himself up off the floor and paced across the room, Abe followed him with his eyes, but didn’t dare to move – hardly dared to breathe. Mihashi lapped up everything in the bowl and then laid down next to it, still fixing him with that steady, golden gaze, but no longer crammed into the corner. Abe glanced back down at his paper, crossed out what he’d just written, and took another bite of his sandwich.

It took four pages of notes and another two of meticulous calculations before Abe was happy with his proposal. He wrote it out on a clean sheet of paper, followed by a short paragraph about his reasoning. Then, he copied it again before banging twice on the door behind him. This time, it was Hanai who came to the door. “No Shinooka?”

Hanai shook his head, “She’s taking her lunch. What do you need?”

Abe passed him the two pieces of paper, “Can you give one of these to Haruna, and one to the doc? I want them to double check my numbers.” He didn’t exactly relish the idea of asking Haruna for help, but he wanted to be sure he hadn’t overlooked anything crucial. Even a small mistake in his math could be a big problem for Mihashi, and he knew a fresh pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt.

Hanai scanned the paper. “Gonna try to pull him out of it?” Hanai usually did more resocialization and patient consultation than lab work, but he knew his stuff.

“I’m going to give him the choice,” Abe said, “assuming my math is right.”

“I’ll have them take a look.”

Abe gave him a nod, then scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed. That had taken longer than he’d expected, without the satisfaction of solving a tough word problem. He wouldn’t know if it worked until he tried it, and if it didn’t, he wouldn’t know it until it was too late. Which, he realized, wasn’t much of a pitch. He glanced over at Mihashi, who had hardly moved an inch. He’d managed to lick the blood off his snout, though, which made him look ever so slightly less menacing. It might have been a trick of the light, but in his relatively relaxed posture, he looked a little healthier, too.

“You ready to accept some food yet?” Mihashi just blinked at him. “I saw you eyeballing my sandwich earlier. Roast beef. I could get you some, but I won’t throw it on the floor if you’re going to turn your nose at it.” Mihashi rested his chin on his paws, huffing out a little bark. Abe shrugged, “Let me know when you change your mind. The more you focus on getting your strength back, the easier it’s going to go.”

Abe pulled out another blank sheet of paper and clipped it to the top of his clipboard. He glanced through the pages, jotted down a few numbers, and started doing a different set of math. Given the surface observations of his wounds, the levels of the different chemicals in his blood, the impact of those drugs on a werewolf’s rate of healing given his size and weight and apparent age, the strain of his virus and the level of mutation…

“Fuck,” he breathed. It was the roughest approximation, no guarantee it was accurate, but if it was even close… “Nine weeks,” he said, not quite a question. It was awful in every possible way – awful that it could have been so long, awful that he could have been hurt so badly in less than three lunar cycles. He put his pen down and leaned back against the door, looking across the room at Mihashi. “Who are you?” he asked, “Where did you come from?”

He didn’t expect an answer, but Mihashi whined softly, and Abe was pretty sure it was the saddest sound he’d ever heard.

* * *

It was another twenty minutes before Shinooka came back with notes from Haruna and Shiga. Shiga’s was simple, scribbled hastily at the bottom of his math work – _Looks good. Aggressive, but well thought-out. Make sure your patient knows the risks &benefits before you proceed._

The note from Haruna, he crumpled and dropped onto the floor.

He handed the page from Shiga back to Shinooka, “Can you bring me everything on this list, and a pound and a half of cubed stew beef?”

She took the paper, but frowned, “I thought Haruna-”

“Haruna put me in charge of this patient,” he said. “You can run it by him if you want to, but please make it clear to him that I’m rejecting his proposal outright, and that if he wishes to move forward with it, he’ll have to remove me from Mihashi’s care.”

Shinooka smoothed her hands over her thighs, straightening her skirt. “I’m not going to go over your head,” she said carefully. “But make sure you’re doing what’s best for your patient, and not ignoring Haruna because you don’t like him.”

“Did you see what he proposed?” Abe said, not quite managing to keep the indignation out of his voice.

“I did.”

“And?”

“He’s not wrong,” she said. “On paper, it makes sense, but…”

“It goes against everything I stand for,” Abe said.

“Maybe you should ask him,” she said, nodding toward Mihashi, “and not make the decision for him.”

Abe looked back over at his shoulder at Mihashi, doing his best to weigh Shinooka’s words against the anger boiling in the back of his mind. “Yeah,” he said eventually, “Okay. You’re right. Will you bring me the stuff anyway, so I can show it to him?”

“That’s my job,” she said, sounding more than a little tired. “You need anything else to eat? You’ve been in here a while.”

“I’m not really hungry,” he said. “I wouldn’t say no to some tea, though.”

“You’ve got it,” she said, patting him on the shoulder before standing up and heading back down the hall. When the sound of her footsteps faded away, Abe reached over and picked up the wadded piece of paper off the floor and smoothed it out, eyes trailing over Haruna’s slanted, scratchy handwriting. _Your math is fine, but you’re an idiot. Just keep him dosed until after the full moon so he only has to change once._

* * *

Shinooka was damn good at her job. Abe had expected, maybe, a plastic bin full of glass bottles and miscellaneous syringes. Instead, she handed him a leather medic roll neatly packed with filled, capped hypodermic needles arranged by drug and dose as he’d noted them on the list, plus three sets of pills, each in their own bottle with a neatly printed label. “You’re an angel,” Abe said, flipping the case closed.

“I know,” she said, handing him a big metal thermos. “You do realize you were supposed to clock out half an hour ago, right?”

He hadn’t, but it didn’t matter. “Still have work to do.”

“I figured you’d say that,” she said. “I think Hamada-san is working the evening shift, but I’ll come check on you again before I leave for the day.”

“Thanks Chiyo,” He said.

“Just don’t work yourself to death,” she said, setting a big plate of raw stew beef on the floor next to him before sliding the window on the door shut again.

Abe picked up the plate and held it out in front of him, “Peace offering?” Mihashi had settled into a disgruntled silence ever since Abe’s hushed argument with Shinooka. He was overdue for an explanation. When Mihashi didn’t react to the pile of red meat, Abe put it back down and sighed. “Okay, talk first then. Is it alright for me to get a little closer to you?”

Mihashi pushed up on his front legs, shuffling back a few steps, but it was more like he was standing his ground than retreating. Abe scooted his way along the floor until Mihashi made a little chuffing noise. Close enough.

He set the medic roll down on the ground in between them, then laid out Shiga’s note on one side of it, and Haruna’s on the other. “I spent most of the afternoon going over your blood work,” he started. “The people who were holding you captive put a lot of crap in your body, and that means that when you turn back, it’s going to be slow, and painful, and take a long time. The good news is, for every kind of drug that can keep a shapeshifter in their animal form, there’s a kind of drug that can help turn them back.” He held up a hand, doing his best to seem non-threatening as he unrolled the case on the floor in front of him. Mihashi yipped and scuffled back another step, but Abe took his hand away from the case and held it up, too, “I’m not going to use any of this on you unless you want me to, but I want you to know what it is, okay?”

Mihashi stayed stiff, breathing a little too fast. But he didn’t retreat.

“Okay,” he said again, soothingly. He pointed at one of the bottles of pills, “These will help speed up your healing. They’ll help take care of all the cuts and bites, and the broken rib and sprained wrist you think I don’t know about. This one, I think, is one of the things Haruna put in your water. It’s an antibiotic, mostly a precaution because we don’t know what all you’ve been exposed to, but if you take the first one, this is sort of moot. We couldn’t give the first one to you right off the bat, because we didn’t know what you’d been dosed with. These ones are pain pills, because like I said, turning back is going to suck.” He took a deep breath, pointing at each of the clusters of needles in turn, “Each of these is the drug to counteract something that’s been given to you. Because there’s so much crap in your system, you’d need one of each of these every six hours for the next 48 hours, but if we time it right, it’ll mean you’ll be human again faster, and it won’t be as painful to turn back.”

He sat back, folding his arms across his chest, “The problem is, you’re probably going to start feeling the pull of the full moon in three days. If we do nothing at all, you’ll probably get half way back into your human form, be stuck like that for the better part of a day, and then start turning back into a wolf. If we do it my way,” he said, pointing over at Shiga’s note, “you’ll have maybe a day, day and a half fully human, and when the pull hits you, you _should_ be able to shift easily.” Abe sighed, moving to point over at Haruna’s note, “The other option is, we give you one, maybe two more small doses of one of the less potent drugs you were given-” Mihashi bristled, hackles raising and a low, menacing growl trickling out of him. Abe quickly held up his hands, “I know, that’s how I feel about it, too, but hear me out. If we do that, you’ll stay a wolf through the full moon, but by then the drugs will have worked out of your system, and you should be able to change back normally when the moon wanes. So, no slow, painful half-transformations, only one or two shots, and no side effects. If we do these,” he said, pointing back at the syringes, “I won’t be able to give you much for the pain, and all the drugs in your system might make you groggy, or even nauseous, or-”

Mihashi pawed at Shiga’s note.

Abe cracked a smile, “You sure?”

Mihashi pawed at the paper again, crumpling it a little against the floor.

“You understand that that means you have to let me stick a bunch of needles in you, right? And you can’t change your mind half way, even if the pain is really bad.”

Mihashi folded his paws on the paper, laying his head down on top of them and looking up at Abe.

“Literal puppy eyes,” he said, shaking his head. “Okay. Then let’s get started.” He glanced at his watch, spinning the face and setting the timer. Six hours. It was going to be a long couple of days. He started by popping open one of the pill bottles, tapping one tablet out into his palm before recapping the bottle and putting it back in the bag. He carefully wrapped the pill in a piece of steak, then tossed it to Mihashi.

Mihashi popped up and snapped it smoothly out of the air, jaws smacking as he worked the little chunk of meat around his mouth.

“You spit that pill out, and I’m going to be pissed,” Abe muttered, pulling out one of each of the syringes. He uncapped and tapped the first one, giving the plunger a little push to work out any air bubbles, but stopped short of moving toward Mihashi. “Is it okay for me to touch you?” Mihashi lowered himself back to the ground and Abe scooted over to him carefully, giving him time to pull back if he needed too, but other than twitching his back and flinching a little when Abe laid a hand between his shoulder blades, he didn’t react. In fact, he took all six shots in stride, letting Abe pinch up the loose skin at the back of his neck and poke it with hardly any protest.

When he was done, Abe couldn’t resist the urge to run his hands through Mihashi’s thick golden scruff. Even on his back, Mihashi’s fur was sparse, but ragged and worn as it was, it was the softest thing Abe had ever touched. His head and ears looked positively velvety, too, but Abe knew better than to press his luck. “All done,” he said, giving Mihashi’s fur one last gentle ruffle before scooting away. “Now we just have to do it seven more times.”

Mihashi made a sound that indicated he was about as pleased with this predicament as Abe was.

Abe stretched his arms up over his head, back cracking. He’d been sitting on a cold concrete floor for going on ten hours. Now he _was_ starting to get hungry, and he’d eaten twice already today. Mihashi hadn’t. He picked up the big tray of meat and set it down in front of him, “Come on. No point in any of this if you don’t eat something and get your strength back.”

He scooted back against the wall, drinking tea out of the lid of his thermos while he watched Mihashi eat. He was obviously ravenous, but the fact that he was literally starved made Abe hesitant to give him more food, even after Mihashi licked the platter clean and nudged it over to him with his nose.

“I know you’re still hungry,” he murmured, “but if you eat too much too fast, you’re going to make yourself sick.” Mihashi whined and pushed the plate closer to him, and Abe breathed out a little laugh, “If you throw up, it’s going to dehydrate you again, and it’s going to make your rib worse.”

Mihashi huffed a sigh and lay back down, but this time he didn’t bother to retreat into the corner.

* * *

Abe didn’t realize he’d drifted off until he heard the rusty clank of the cell door opening. He sucked in a breath and sat up straighter, momentarily disoriented, then groaned. He was cold and stiff and had a bad crick in his neck. If Mihashi had been asleep, too, he wasn’t anymore, ears pricked forward, eyes alert, the air around him vibrating with the low thrum of his mistrust and displeasure.

“It’s okay,” Abe said, bracing himself against the wall and struggling up to his feet, “It’s alright.”

He rubbed his eyes groggily as he crossed the small room. The door was barely open a crack, and he pressed his face to the opening, only to find someone peering back at him, “Shinooka?”

“You’re an idiot,” she said, not unkindly.

“What time is it?”

“Time for you to take a break.” He opened his mouth to object, but she didn’t give him the chance, “Not a suggestion, Abe.”

He frowned, but now that he was awake and standing up, he realized he really, really needed to take a piss. He sighed and turned back to Mihashi, “I’ll be back in just a few minutes, okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Shinooka said, opening the door wide enough for him to step through. “I think twelve hours is long enough for anyone to get sick of you.”

Abe blinked, following her out into the hall, “Twelve hours?”

“Mmhm, you were sleeping like a baby next to that supposedly violent beast in there. I swear, I’ve never met anyone with a more spectacular lack of self preservation.”

“Wait, if it’s that late, why are you still here?”

“Because I came to check on you, like I said I would, and I started to open the door and heard you snoring, and your patient snoring, so instead of waking you both, I stood outside and tried to imagine how our conversation would have gone.”

“How did our hypothetical conversation go?” he asked, trailing after her into the lounge. The shift from uninsulated concrete to the heat spilling over from an active kitchen was jarring. The warm air made Abe’s jeans feel cold against his legs, and he shivered.

“I told you to go home, and you grumbled and muttered, and I told you Izumi was here to take over for you, and you grumbled and muttered, and I told you to go home again, and you said you thought you should stay to keep an eye on your patient.”

She handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee, and he frowned into it. She wasn’t wrong. “So you’re pulling a double shift to make sure I leave?”

She shook her head, “I clocked out when my shift was over like a sane person, went home and ate dinner like a sane person, and then let myself into your apartment with the key Izumi leant me and picked up your overnight bag and some books.”

Abe’s eyes went wide, “What?”

“You’re welcome,” she said, picking up a familiar black duffel bag off the floor by the door and slinging it over his shoulder. “I also had Hamada-san set up a cot for you in the back so you can get at least a few hours of sleep not on a concrete floor.”

“Haruna should really pay you more,” he marveled.

“I’d ask you to tell him that, but then he’d probably dock my pay just to spite you.”

Abe grunted, because it wasn’t really a joke, but Shinooka didn’t need to sit through another tirade today.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully, then asked, “Why are you still working here, anyway?”

He glanced up from his coffee, surprised, “What?”

“I mean, why not quit? The two of you are _literally_ at each other’s throats, and you’re more than qualified enough to get a job at any clinic in the city.”

He blinked, baffled by the question, until he realized that Shinooka didn’t know. “He won’t let me.”

“What?”

He held up his hand, showing her the neat half moon scars Haruna’s teeth had left on his forearm, “He’s the one who turned me. Even though I don’t run with the rest of them, he’s still technically my pack leader. Since all the clinics in the city are pack affiliated, hiring me would be like harboring a fugitive without his permission, and he won’t release me.”

“Holy shit,” Shinooka breathed, then put her fingertips to her lips like she’d scandalized herself by saying it out loud. “But why?”

Abe shrugged, “Let me know if you figure it out.”

“No wonder you hate him.”

“I used to think he was a genius,” Abe said, draining the last of his coffee and tossing the cup in the trash. “It was his thesis on the generational mutation patterns of the virus that made me shift my field of study. It’s too bad he’s such a fucking c-”

Someone smacked the back of his head and pushed him forward, ruffling his hair. “Don’t forget, the boss man has good ears, dumbass,” Izumi said, just loud enough for him to hear.

Abe stood back up, rubbing the back of his head and patting his hair down, “He’s heard me call him worse.”

“And you wonder why he doesn’t play nice.” Izumi gave Shinooka a quick nod before turning back to Abe, “You really staying the night?”

“Yeah,” Abe said, glancing at his watch, “I put him on a pretty aggressive schedule, and I don’t think he’d take well to a parade of strangers coming to poke needles in him every couple of hours.”

“Well, no one can say you aren’t dedicated, I guess.” He turned back to Shinooka, “Tajima’s notes said the pups should start shifting back in about an hour.” He handed her a sheet of paper, “Can you fill this before you head home? I want to make sure they’re all calm and comfortable before their bones start spontaneously breaking.”

“Sure thing,” she said, glancing over the notes on the page. “And I made soup for you and Mihashi, Abe. Should be gentle enough on his stomach for him to eat his fill, and I think you’ll like it too. There’s a big pot of it on the stove if you want to take it back with you.”

“Thanks,” he said, and she gave him a little nod before slipping out a side door and into their pharmacy.

“You know,” Izumi said quietly, “I didn’t know he was holding you hostage, either. You’ve asked him straight out to be released?”

“On multiple occasions.”

“And he shot you down?”

“The closest he ever came to saying yes was telling me he can’t release me from a pack I refuse to be a part of.”

Izumi was silent for a moment, then said, “He won’t release you unless you come run with us?”

“That’s the implication.”

“That’s not a no, though, right? I mean, why not just come along once or twice and ask him again?”

“Because if a pack leader kills another wolf on their own land during the full moon, they aren’t culpable for murder.”

Izumi snorted, “Seriously, Abe? That’s a little dramatic, even for you.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” he said. Izumi looked skeptical, and Abe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I ran with him once before, right after he turned me, and we both ended up in the ICU for three days afterward.”

“Wait _what?!_ ”

“It was before your time,” Abe said, “but yeah, we took down a deer and got in a fight over the corpse. I almost took Haruna’s leg off, and he ripped out most of my throat.”

“What the fuck?” Izumi said, recoiling. “Jesus, Abe, I thought you two had, like, persistent philosophical differences about patient care, not-”

“A literal thirst for each other’s blood?” Abe said, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah. Not exactly eager to accept another invitation.”

“Shit.” After a moment, he added, “You want me to talk to him?”

“You think he’d listen?”

Izumi’s silence was all the answer he needed.

“So, yeah, congratulations. You’re stuck with me.” Abe grabbed Izumi’s head and messed up his hair, “I’m gonna go take a leak. Can you hang around and help me carry the inevitably-excessive amount of soup Shinooka made?”

“Hey, don’t hate,” Izumi said, slapping his hands away. “Why bother making soup at all if you’re not going to make enough to fill a swimming pool?”

Abe laughed, “I’m pretty sure I could fit _you_ in one of those soup pots.”

“Hilarious.”

“I know I am,” he said, turning and starting to walk away. He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, “Oh, and next time, give me a heads up before you lend Shinooka my key.”

Izumi snorted, “Yeah, sure, because she’s never seen your nasty-ass bachelor pad before. Hell, I’d tell you to just give her her own key already, but she might get the wrong idea about you.”

Abe flipped him off as he walked away, and Izumi’s laughter followed him down the hall.

* * *

Peering through the little barred window in the door to the holding cell, Mihashi seemed calm and relaxed, but in the time it took Abe to actually open the door, the big golden wolf evaporated from his spot on the floor and jammed himself into a corner, hiding in the blind spot behind the door. He and Izumi had to get most of the way into the room before they could put the hefty soup pot down so it wouldn’t block the door, and as soon as Izumi crossed into Mihashi’s line of sight, he let out a low, menacing growl.

Izumi set the pot down with an audible clank, and Mihashi’s growl turned into a yelp, and he started scrabbling against the wall.

“Hey,” Abe said softly, waving Izumi back out into the hall, “It’s okay. He was just helping me bring in food, okay? He’s not going to hurt you. Okay?”

Abe backed slowly into the door frame and Izumi passed him the duffel bag Shinooka had brought for him. “Jesus. He’s in really bad shape.”

“He looks worlds better than he did this morning,” Abe said.

Izumi let out a dry laugh, “And I thought _I_ was going to have a long night.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Izumi patted him on the shoulder, “Good luck in there.”

Abe nodded and ducked back inside, waiting for Izumi to close and lock the door behind him before setting down his bag and sitting next to the giant pot of soup. He worked slowly, carefully ladling the soup into a bowl – for him – and a bigger bowl – for Mihashi. It was hot and fragrant, beef and barley with big chunks of vegetables. He hooked the ladle on the side of the pot and put the lid back on it, then let out a soft sigh. “I know you’re scared,” he said. “You have every reason to be.” He picked up the big bowl and leaned forward, setting it down as close to Mihashi as he could without pressing into his space, “but you don’t have to be afraid of me. All I want is for you to get better.” He picked up his own bowl and inched carefully back along the floor before settling into the corner opposite Mihashi. Mihashi didn’t move a muscle, but his eyes followed Abe as he moved.

Abe held up his soup bowl in a little salute, “Cheers.” He fished the spoon he’d swiped from the kitchen out of his pocket and started eating. And, damn, the soup _was_ good, warm and hearty, the meat and vegetables tender without being mushy, the barley pleasantly chewy. He let out a little hum of contentment. “Shinooka said you could eat as much as you want,” he remarked when he realized his bowl was half empty and Mihashi still hadn’t moved. “Though she’s not so good with portion sizes,” he added wryly, nodding at the massive pot, “so don’t go too crazy.”

When he finished his soup, he crawled back to the center of the room and took the lid back off the pot, carefully refilling his bowl. “Are you not feeling well?” he asked, glancing over at Mihashi.

Mihashi looked pointedly at the door.

“He’s not coming back,” Abe said, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “Besides, you’d hear him coming. You got hidden over there pretty fast, remember?” He put the lid back on the pot and shifted so he was sitting with his back against the door, “Come eat something before it gets cold. No one’s getting past me.”

Mihashi stayed where he was just long enough that they could both pretend that Abe playing doorstop hadn’t made him feel better before standing up and pacing over to the bowl Abe had set out for him. He ate more carefully this time, nosing around the bowl and picking out the chunks of meat before lapping down the broth. It didn’t escape Abe’s notice that he left quite a few carrots in the bottom of his dish. He reached over and drew the bowl back over towards him and refilled it, “Is it the carrots you don’t like, or just vegetables in general?”

Mihashi let out a disgruntled little huff, and Abe set the dish back in front of him, a little closer this time. Despite his scolding, Mihashi started doing exactly the same thing again.

“You know, if you keep that up, you’re just going to end up with a bowl full of carrots, right?”

Mihashi did a pretty good job of ignoring him, but before he could finish his second helping, Abe picked on of the big hunks of carrot out of his own bowl. He let out a sharp whistle and Mihashi’s attention whipped over to him. He tossed the carrot, and Mihashi snapped it out of the air, lightning fast – too fast to think better of it. He groaned, a low, miserable, complaining noise, but he didn’t drop the carrot. “It’s not so bad, right?” Abe said, licking his fingertips clean.

Mihashi stared at him steadily for a moment, then bent and nudged his mostly carrot-filled dish towards Abe.

“You want more?”

But Mihashi just nudged the dish closer to him, then backed up a few steps. For a moment, Abe didn’t understand. Then Mihashi jumped and barked.

“Seriously?” he said, putting down his own bowl. Mihashi barked again. “You’ve been a wolf for too long,” he said, but picked a carrot up out of Mihashi’s dish and tossed it to him, a little higher this time. Again, Mihashi snapped it clean out of the air, but this time after he swallowed it, his tongue lolled out and he started panting. Experimentally, Abe tossed another hunk of carrot, this time slightly off to one side, but the shift in direction didn’t fool Mihashi for a second. “You have fantastic reflexes,” he said, throwing another carrot high and to the other side. When Mihashi trotted to the other side of the small room and barked at him again, Abe whipped another piece of carrot, this time high enough in the air that Mihashi had to jump for it.

Before long, the bowl was empty except for a little ring of barley and leftover broth, and Mihashi wandered back over and flopped down next to the soup pot. He was obviously disappointed that their game was over, but seemed exhilarated by the exercise. “That’s probably the first chance you’ve gotten to move around in a while, huh?” Abe said. “You must be bored out of your mind.”

Mihashi chuffed, nudging his bowl with his nose.

“Do you want some more, or do you just want to keep playing catch?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before ladling more soup into the dish. Evidently Mihashi either overcame his dislike for carrots – or at least gave in to his hunger – because when he bent over the bowl, this time he ate with much more gusto, and much less discretion. Abe wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging them to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. “I wish I knew who you were,” he said, then smiled. “I bet you’re a hell of an athlete, though.”

Mihashi whined softly, and the smile faded from Abe’s face, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something bad.”

But then Mihashi nosed the bowl back towards him, empty except for a single cube of meat.

“Well, at least you’re feeling better,” Abe said, picking it up. “Over here?” He started to throw it and Mihashi leapt to his feet. “Or this way?” He said, pantomiming throwing it in the opposite direction. Mihashi started, but didn’t fall for it. He barked, impatient, and Abe whipped the meat across the room, fast and low, but Mihashi moved like lightning and caught it before it fell. Abe let out a low, impressed whistle, “I guess that means your rib and ankle are okay, then.”

As soon as he said it, he realized that Mihashi really _did_ look better, whether it was the first round of medication he’d given him, the food, or just the fact that he’d had the better part of a day for the drugs in his system to start wearing off. His coat was starting to come back in, slowly, and his skin looked heathier, scabbed over or healed where it showed. “Yeah,” he said, nodding and agreeing with himself aloud, “You’re looking pretty good.”

Mihashi, seemingly impervious to Abe’s scrutiny, wandered back over and started to stick his nose into the soup pot.

“Hey, get out of there,” Abe said, waving him off, “I still have to eat from there, too.” Mihashi backed up a few steps, and Abe started mechanically refilling his bowl again, muttering under his breath, “Trying to put your dog spit in my soup.”

In the end, between the two of them, they _did_ end up eating almost all the soup. By the time the ladle had started scraping the bottom of the pot, Abe had come up with what he hoped was a convincing story about how he’d shared it with the rest of the guys, even though he knew Shinooka wouldn’t buy it. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Abe said, absently rubbing his stomach. He was pleasantly overfull, satiated and a little groggy, and a glance in Mihashi’s direction told him that his patient was similarly sedate.

When the alarm on his watch went off, Abe was momentarily bewildered. Had it already been six hours? But when he looked at his wrist and started pressing the buttons on his watch, he groaned and let his head fall back against the metal door. The game was starting in fifteen minutes. For just a moment, he considered calling Shinooka and asking if she had happened, per chance, to set his DVR to record it. Then he realized that was stupid, and that if he asked, she’d probably rush over to do it, which would be a dick move, even for him. Instead, he spent ten of the fifteen minutes sulking before realizing that Shinooka, superhuman and magnificent as she was, would have remembered.

He sat up abruptly, reaching for his abandoned duffel bag and dragging it across the floor. Sure enough, mixed in with his toiletries, enough clothes for three days and two nights, and a stack of reading material, she’d packed his small emergency radio. He was going to hand write her a thank you note. He turned to Mihashi, whose ears had perked up with curiosity, and asked tentatively, “How do you feel about baseball?”

* * *

Mihashi, as it turned out, was absolutely all about baseball. They wound up sitting side by side, Mihashi’s flank pressed to Abe’s leg, clustered around the small, tinny sound of the radio, tensing and shouting (barking) in tandem. Abe’s watch went off again in the bottom of the fifth, and he rested the radio between Mihashi’s front paws while he fed him another pill and gave him his second round of medication. He groaned softly in discomfort as Abe administered the last shot, and Abe gently rubbed the injection site, trying to chase away the feeling of the foreign liquids underneath his skin. His hand stilled when the radio announced the cleanup coming up to bat (one out, runners on first and third), and somewhere between him hitting a double and the next two runs, he started gently stroking Mihashi’s head, which had ended up in his lap.

He hesitated for a moment when he realized he was doing it, but the fact that Mihashi was _letting_ him was reason enough not to stop. This was by far the most calm and relaxed Mihashi had been since the moment Abe had laid eyes on him, his focus tuned entirely on the slightly fuzzy sound of the radio, his guard almost completely down. Abe ran his hands thoughtfully along Mihashi’s ears (which were even more velvety soft than he’d imagined). The little nicks and scrapes on his head were gone, including the notch that had been missing from his left ear, and there was life in his tawny golden fur that hadn’t been there that morning.

The doctor part of his brain wanted to take the opportunity to get a better look at his patient, to check that his rib had really set properly, to note how much he’d recovered since his initial examination. But a bigger part of him just wanted Mihashi to keep breathing slow and steady and unafraid.

Then Mihashi let out a low, grumpy little woof, and Abe turned his attention back to the game, fingertips still absently stroking the top of Mihashi’s head.

The spell broke when their team scored the game winning point in the bottom of the ninth, Abe pumped his fists and let out an abrupt cheer, and Mihashi leapt to his feet like someone had just asked if he wanted to go for a walk. They gathered around the radio, listening the final seconds of the game, and when it was over, Abe let out a pleased little, “Fuck yeah.” He grinned, looking up at Mihashi, “Wanna listen to the post-game?”

This time, Mihashi walked in a slow circle, curling up and laying down, and rested his head deliberately on Abe’s thigh.

“Post-game it is,” Abe said, his voice coming out a little weaker than he might have liked. He set the radio down in his lap, but when he let his hand fall to his side, Mihashi turned and nudged his nose underneath it, bumping and pushing at his palm until Abe put his hand back on top of Mihashi’s head and started petting him again.

He didn’t hear much of the post-game.

It occurred to him, after a few minutes of staring down at the top of Mihashi’s head, that this was probably the first time he’d received a kind touch in wolf form. It was a strange thing, something Abe himself only barely remembered, but there was a different kind of kinship in touch between wolves. He’d been on his own so long, so careful to avoid other shapeshifters during the full moon, that the feel of rubbing shoulders and flanks was hardly a ghost of a memory. And Mihashi wouldn’t have even had that.

By the time the announcers went quiet, Mihashi’s breathing had turned steady and slow, his body relaxed and heavy and warm at Abe’s side. If he wasn’t asleep, he was close enough for it not to matter. Carefully, Abe turned the volume down on the radio and tuned it to some late night talk show, the voices a barely audible rumble of comforting white noise, and closed his eyes.

When his watch went off a few hours later, his neck and back and shoulders screamed in protest, and he groaned, rubbing groggily at his face and eyes before fumbling off the alarm. The sound had woken Mihashi, too, but he hadn’t stirred, just made a miserable little groan of protest. “You and me both,” Abe muttered, unrolling the medic bag. “Ready for round three?”

Mihashi chuffed, but stayed where he was, keeping still while Abe gave him his shots and obediently swallowing the pill Abe fed him. When he was finished, Abe ruffled Mihashi’s hair and shuffled out from under him, bracing himself against the wall and pushing up to his feet, “Alright, I should try to get at least a few hours of decent sleep before I completely stop being able to move my neck.”

Mihashi pawed at his leg and whined, and Abe let out a dry laugh, “Sorry, but you’re a little better equipped for dealing with a hard floor than I am.” Mihashi whiled again, pawing at him more urgently, and Abe said, “It’s okay, I’m just going down the hall. Shinooka set up a cot for me.” He picked the big soup pot up off the floor, expecting it to be ice cold after all the time it had been sitting there, but the bottom was still just barely warm. “You want the rest of this?” he asked. Any longer and it would probably go bad, and there was no point in wasting it. He scooped the last of the soup into the big water dish, but Mihashi ignored it, still looking at Abe with something that might have been betrayal.

Abe sighed. “I’m just going to be down the hall,” he said again. “You can literally just howl if you need me, and I’ll hear you and come running.”

Mihashi immediately started to howl.

“I said if you _need_ me,” he said with a soft laugh, bracing the soup pot against his hip and picking his bag up off the floor.

Mihashi just howled again.

“Stop that,” Abe said, keeping his own voice low, “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

He stopped, but didn’t look happy about it. Abe rapped twice on the metal door, “Look, you’re going to be fine. I’ll probably wake up before your next round of shots anyway.”

A moment later the lock groaned and the door swung outward, but when Abe took a step to leave, Mihashi grabbed lightly onto the hem of his shirt with his teeth. Abe stopped mid-step, turning around to look back at Mihashi, who whined softly.

Abe sighed, “Okay, fine. I’ll come back. But I’m going to go brush my teeth first.”

Mihashi let him go immediately, expression splitting into a big doggy grin.

Abe rolled his eyes, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He was surprised to find a weary looking Hamada waiting for him in the hall. “What are you still doing here?”

Hamada shook his head, running a hand through his hair and nodding for Abe to follow him down the hall. Once they were a few feet away from Mihashi’s cell, Hamada murmured quietly, “One of the pups is stuck in a lateral shift.”

Abe jolted, halting his step in surprise, “Holy shit, are you serious?”

Hamada nodded, looking weary, “Apparently nothing in her blood work indicated there was a problem, but Izumi caught it right away when she started to turn.”

“Do you need me in there?”

“No, Tajima came back in and is easing her through it. I stuck around to help out, but mostly I’m just ferrying towels back and forth to the laundry.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, and it’s her first shift back, so she’s really scared. Tajima thinks it’ll be treatable, though, for what it’s worth.”

“That’s good,” Abe said, nodding absently.

“Can I get you anything from the kitchen?”

“Nah, I’m alright. I’m going to head back in there, though, so come lock the door behind me when you can, okay?”

“Wait, don’t you have a cot set up in the quiet room?”

“Yeah, I’m moving it in there.”

“Wait, why?”

Abe sighed, “Because I’m a pushover.”

Hamada let out a dry chuckle, “Could have fooled me.”

* * *

It took some doing, getting the stupid cot out of the back room, through the kitchen, around several corners, and back into the holding cell, but the fact that he was met by a big golden wolf sparkling with enthusiasm and dancing on excited feet rather than cowering in a corner made it worth it. He set the cot down in one corner and tossed the sleeping bag back on top of it. “You happy?” he asked. Mihashi barked, and Abe shushed him, quickly slipping into the sleeping bag, getting his sock-covered feet off the cold concrete as quickly as he could before zipping himself inside. The cot was by no means comfortable, but it was better than the damn floor. He lay down, stretched out, and sighed. A few hours sleep was better than nothing. “Try to get some sleep,” he said through a yawn.

He’d hardly closed his eyes when he felt something shift on the cot next to him. He looked up and found Mihashi resting his chin on the edge of the cot, staring at him from inches away from his face. Abe closed his eyes again, “Seriously?” When Mihashi didn’t move, he said, “What now?”

He jolted when he felt himself being dragged toward the edge of the cot, and realized Mihashi was pulling on his sleeping bag with his teeth. “What the hell!”

Mihashi let go, dropping down onto his stomach on the floor and peering up at Abe with sad eyes.

“What are you, five?” he muttered, inchworming off the edge of the cot until he was standing in the middle of the floor, still in his sleeping bag. “Do you need a glass of water, too? Want me to turn on a nightlight?” He flung himself onto the floor as gently as he could without arms, wiggling around to get as comfortable as he was going to before huffing, “Well, come on then.”

Mihashi padded over and gave Abe’s face a gentle lick before lying down beside him.

“Gross,” Abe muttered, shrugging his shoulder against the wet spot on his cheek, but he poked an arm out of his sleeping bag and smoothed his hand gently down along Mihashi’s back, drawing him close before he closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abe's plan to help Mihashi turn back into a human starts to take effect, and they spend a long, grueling evening finding out that what looks good on paper isn't always quite so simple in practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quietly updates tags* [prayer hands emoji] gomen. 
> 
> This chapter is kinda brutal, and consists primarily of a really agonizing werewolf transformation. You are forewarned.
> 
> On the bright side: the next chapter is already written (but not yet edited) and much less brutal, and there will be more than the original planned total of 3 chapters. 
> 
> ALSO PLEASE LOOK AT ALL THIS AMAZING FANART: [OH](https://twitter.com/filledbuns/status/660729414183813120). [MY](http://hawberries.tumblr.com/post/132516470537). [GOD](https://twitter.com/384hen/status/665755843984547840). (I am not worthy, you are all too precious, too good, too beautiful and talented)

The next morning passed quietly, a procession of pills and injections and the drowsy reluctance to wake of both a poor night’s sleep and a warm bed – or at least, a warm werewolf. They ate breakfast together – scrambled eggs and bacon for both of them, coffee for Abe and a fragrant bowl of dashi for Mihashi. The other shapeshifters that had come in with Mihashi paraded out one by one as the morning wore on, footsteps and teary reunions Abe could only pick up through the walls because he was listening for them.

When he went out for a morning jog around the parking lot and a quick shower in one of the patient bathrooms, he overheard Tajima and Haruna explaining treatment options for a defective mutation to a haggard looking girl and her family. Apparently, they’d managed to keep her alive through the night, but she was going to have to go through it all over again in a few days.

He was surprised when someone knocked on their door in the early afternoon. Mihashi tensed but didn’t flee, and Abe got up and walked over to the door, peering outside when it opened a crack. Tajima was standing in the doorframe, a lean, dark-haired kid with sharp brown eyes hovering a few paces behind him. The kid was maybe twenty and looked like he’d been to hell and back, but had a strong, determined set to his face.

“What’s up?” Abe asked.

“This is Kanou Shuugo. One of the pups,” Tajima said, nodding back over his shoulder, “He wants to talk to Mihashi.”

Abe frowned. He didn’t like the idea of letting anyone inside when Mihashi had finally settled down, but when he glanced back over his shoulder, he found Mihashi sitting alert, ears pricked forward, head tilted to one side. What the hell. “You’ve got a visitor,” he said. Mihashi shuffled but didn’t retreat, and Abe opened the door a little more, nodding for the kid to come in.

Kanou stopped just a few steps inside the doorway and bowed deeply at the waist. “You saved my life. Thank you. I hope some day I can repay you.”

After a moment, Mihashi stood up and crossed the room, bumping his head lightly against Kanou’s hand.

Kanou made a small, choked sound, stroking Mihashi’s ears. He gasped out another, “Thank you,” then gave another stiff bow before fleeing the room.

Tajima gave Abe a little shrug, then saluted and closed the door behind them.

“You’re going to have to tell me what that was about,” Abe said, “the next time you have human vocal cords.” Then he remembered the bruising on the side of Mihashi’s body. The big gash. The broken rib. They were all healed now, but… Abe blinked. “You took a hit for him.” Mihashi settled back down on the floor, resting his head between his paws and pointedly avoiding Abe’s gaze. “You took a swipe from a werebear for a stranger,” he breathed, turning to look back at the door, like he could see the kid disappearing down the hall through it. “Holy shit.”

* * *

By midafternoon they were both starting to feel their confinement. There wasn’t much to do in the little concrete room, and without anything left to eat, a few too many hours of sleep under their belts, and their collective inability to make small talk, when the parade of voices in the hall died out, the boredom started to set in.

Eventually Abe remembered that Shinooka had packed him some books, but when he opened his bag and started pulling them out, he discovered that either Shinooka had a twisted sense of humor, or she’d accidentally mixed some of her own reading material in with Abe’s. Along with a pile of science and baseball magazines, a few textbooks, yesterday’s newspaper, a well-worn book about the history of lycanthropy, and a copy of Introduction to Forestry and Natural Resources, she’d packed him a paperback book with a picture of a shirtless dude on the cover titled _Howling Fury_. He put that one back in the bag.

“You bored enough to listen to me read out loud for a while?” Abe asked, holding up one of the baseball magazines.

Mihashi was, emphatically, bored enough for that, and listened intently as Abe read all three of the baseball magazines cover to cover. He was much less interested in everything else the big pile had to offer, though, and when Abe settled on the forestry book and started reading it, Mihashi gently closed his jaws around it and pulled it out of Abe’s hands.

Abe sighed, “Do you have a better idea?”

Mihashi paced over to Abe’s bag and nudged his nose against it.

“The battery on the radio is dead,” he said. “I fell asleep with it still on.”

Mihashi nosed the bag again, and Abe leaned over and unzipped it, “There’s nothing in here but socks and-” And a gay werewolf romance novel, sitting on top of his neatly folded pants. “No.”

Mihashi barked.

“Absolutely not. No way.”

Mihashi sighed at him. Abe picked up the book and flipped it over to read the back cover. “When Ezekiel Kasmir walked into the bar that night, he didn’t expect-” He stopped, reaching up and rubbing his eyes, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather hear about wildlife/habitat relationships? I just started reading a really fascinating section on-”

Mihashi barked.

Abe caved and flipped the novel to the first page. “Chapter One: Fire and Ice.”

The book wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. Mostly. That is, until the main character and his love interest stopped fucking around and started, well, _fucking around_.

“‘Ezekiel brushed his hand gently over-’ Okay, yeah, no, I’m not reading this out loud.”

Mihashi let out a little rumbling growl of displeasure.

“No, not this time,” Abe said firmly, scanning down the page and turning it. “I’ll summarize, but I’m not reading this out loud.” He turned the page again. “Blah blah blah, they hate each other but they can’t resist each other, blah blah blah, they touch each other’s butts passionately and enthusiastically for…” he flipped the page again. And again. And again. “Jesus Christ, like fifteen pages.” He flipped back a page and skimmed it a little more closely before murmuring under his breath, “Shinooka can never know about this.”

* * *

By the time he read the last page, it was already dark outside. Abe set down the book and leaned back against the wall, sighing, “I really wish Doctor-Patient confidentiality went both ways.” He glanced at his watch. They had a little more than 45 minutes before Mihashi was due for his next round of medication, and after that… He ran a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. After that, if his calculations were right, Mihashi would start to turn back.

He picked up the book and bopped Mihashi on the head with it before tossing it back into his bag, “I’m going to go ask about dinner and stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a few, okay?”

Mihashi heaved a big sigh, and Abe said, “I know. I’d take you out there with me if I could. But it won’t be too much longer now.”

He stood up and rapped on the door, and it was only when it was opened by a girl he didn’t recognize that he remembered this was supposed to be his day off. “Uh, thanks,” he said. “Think you could bring in something for us to eat in a little while?”

She gave him a small nod, and Abe headed down the hallway in the opposite direction, towards the back entrance. He stood at the top of the small staircase outside the door for a few minutes, stretching, then jogged down the steps and started out around the sidewalk.

It was bracing cold outside but fresh, with none of the damp, clammy feeling of the holding cell. The rainy day had given way to a crisp, breezy evening, and the sky had turned as dark and clear as spilled blue ink. The moon was bright and luminous overhead, round and fat but not quite full, and as Abe jogged two circuits around the mostly-empty parking lot, he could feel the weight of it in the sky like it was tethered to his guts.

It felt good to be moving, though, blood pumping back into his stiff limbs. Instead of going back inside, he ran a few more laps around the building, until he could feel the music of his heart pounding in his chest and the cold air hitting his face became a relief rather than a discomfort. He only slowed when he heard the sound of a distant howl. His feet stuttered to a stop against the concrete as he tried to locate the sound over his own heavy breathing.

As soon as he pinpointed it, he started running again, this time for the door to the clinic. He flashed his employee badge at the woman behind the front desk, then pushed through the double doors and started sprinting, dashing through the lab, tearing around a corner, and racing toward Mihashi’s cell. The howling was echoing down the hallway, barely muffled by the concrete walls.

He skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding a collision with Izumi, who was standing in the middle of the hallway, arms spread wide, blocking his path. “What’s going on?” Abe said, frantic.

“Everything is fine,” Izumi said, but there was a thread of panic in his voice, and another howl rose up from behind him – through the open door to Mihashi’s cell.

“What the fuck is going on!” Abe shouted, shoving past him. Izumi managed to hold onto him for a moment, but Abe tore free and rushed through the door into the cell.

His brain processed in fragments, snapshots. Haruna. Haruna’s medical bag. The needle in his hand. Mihashi on his side on the floor. The sound that tore out of him was barely human, let alone anything resembling words, but on his second try, he managed, “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

Haruna didn’t even look up at him, didn’t so much as flinch. “I’m drawing blood,” he said mildly, pricking Mihashi with the needle and doing exactly that. “So I can double check your math.”

Abe lunged toward him, but he hardly moved an inch before Izumi caught him, arms hooked under his armpits holding him back. “Chill, Abe,” Izumi said. Abe bucked against his grip, but Izumi held him tight and repeated, “Chill. He’s not going to hurt him.” Izumi pulled him back a few steps, out of the room, back into the hall, and away from the door, so Haruna was out of his line of sight.

It was too close to the full moon for him to be this angry. His temper had blurred him around the edges, rage leaving him breathing hard and his teeth feeling a little sharp in his mouth. He needed to leave, needed to cool down, but he could hear Haruna talking to Mihashi, joking with him, howling playfully and Mihashi answering him loud enough for it to echo down the halls, then making pleased, friendly noises when Haruna laughed. It made Abe want to ram his fist into something precious.

Haruna came out a few minutes later, a placid smile on his face. “Izumi, can you close the door for me?”

Izumi glanced at Abe, who he was still actively physically restraining, “Uh?”

“It’s fine. Taka, you’re welcome to try to hit me if you feel the need.”

Izumi hesitated, but let him go. Abe clenched his fists at his sides, refusing to move. When Izumi shuffled around to shut the door, Haruna passed him his bag, “Have these samples processed immediately.”

“Uh, sure thing,” Izumi said, taking the bag but not making a move to leave.

“Taka, a word?” Haruna said, not bothering to wait for an answer before starting off down the hall without him.

Abe followed him, because what choice did he have? “What do you want?”

Haruna ignored him, pacing evenly down the hall until they were at the farthest point from Mihashi’s cell. Then he whirled on Abe, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him into the wall, his voice coming out a quiet hiss, “Don’t ever undermine me in front of a patient like that again.”

The pressure on his throat was crushing, but Abe just clenched his jaw and glared, a low, menacing sound rumbling deep in his chest.

Izumi took a step forward, uncertain, and Haruna looked over at him and growled, “Leave.” When Izumi hesitated, he barked, “ _Now!_ ” Even Abe could feel the command in the word, something more powerful than a mere vocalization, the rumbling authority of his wolf laced through it. Izumi stumbled back a step, then another, like he’d been shoved, before turning and walking down the hall in the opposite direction.

“I turned a blind eye to you ignoring my orders, but I will _not_ let you harm a patient through your own negligence,” Haruna said, slamming him back against the wall to punctuate his hushed growl.

“You and Shiga both said my calculations were sound,” Abe said, the accusation making his rage cool and harden inside him, solidify into something sharp.

“Yes, Taka, on paper it looks fucking fantastic. Genius, even. The best possible course for the worst possible case, that no one but a fucking prodigy like you ever would have come up with. I certainly wouldn’t have. But you know why? Because it’s _fucking inhumane_.”

This time, Abe pushed back, hitting Haruna square in the chest with both of his palms and shoving him backwards, breaking his hold on his neck, “And forcing him to stay in his wolf form longer than necessary isn’t? I gave him the choice. This is what he wants.”

Haruna laughed, wheezing a little as he pulled air back into his chest, “You really think a pup who’s never shifted from wolf to human is qualified to make that decision? You can say ‘it’ll be slow, it’ll hurt’ all you want, but you think someone who’s never experienced that pain can imagine what it’ll be like stretched out over six hours? Twelve? Eighteen? Once it starts, you won’t be able to sedate him, and you won’t be able to take it back. I’m sure you told him that, but neither of you know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“No, Taka, you don’t. You know how I know? Because you’ve never seen a case like this, but I have. Tonight is going to be _awful_ , you have no idea how bad, and that’s assuming nothing goes wrong. What if he has a mutation we didn’t catch, too?”

Abe recoiled. He hadn’t even considered it. “The chances of that are like, one in a thousand. Ten thousand, maybe.”

“And with the last batch of pups, it was one in five, and she barely survived. Mihashi could have been turned by the same person. What if he’s stuck like that for a whole day? Days?”

“I-”

“And instead of going in there and helping him relax, helping him get ready for this awful thing he’s about to go through, you’re outside running around in circles by yourself.”

Abe bristled, “I wanted to have a clear head.”

“And you think that’s more important than _him_ having a clear head?”

“He’s calm. Relaxed. Or at least he was before _you_ went in there.”

“Right, because he was so afraid of me.” Haruna scoffed, shaking his head, “You finally manage to master the very bare minimum of patient care because that sweet, gentle little pup took a liking to you, and now you think you’re a fucking miracle worker? I’m amazed you didn’t bully your way out of the problem like you always do.”

Every word hit Abe like a lash. As much as he wanted to put his hands around Haruna’s throat and squeeze just to make him shut up, he knew what he was saying was true. He clenched his jaw and took it.

“You think I’m an asshole, but let me tell you, it’s kind of hard not to be when you walk in here every day with this big fucking chip on your shoulder, looking for a fight every time you lay eyes on me.” Haruna shook his head, taking a step back, “How do you ever expect to be able to take care of your patients if you spend your whole life fighting and avoiding being around other wolves?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you’ve been hiding out in your shitty little patch of shitty dead trees all alone for so long you probably don’t even remember what it’s like to run with a pack.”

Abe’s hand flew up to his throat on instinct, “Yeah, you kind of ruined that particular experience for me.”

“ _I_ did?” Haruna scoffed. “You pull a dominance fight on me your first full moon, and blame _me_ for the fact that we both almost ended up dead?”

“You ripped my fucking throat out!”

“But I didn’t kill you.”

He’d come pretty fucking close. Abe could remember the feeling of his life oozing out of the gaping hole that had once been his neck.

“You’re strong enough to lead,” Haruna said, his voice coming out hard and serious, “strong enough to take this pack from me, if you were man enough to try it again. But instead you’re playing the lone wolf off by yourself, squandering your potential. You were the best student I ever had, but it was a mistake to turn you.”

“No shit!” Abe shouted. “You didn’t even give me the choice!”

“I thought you were ready.”

“You wanted a lackey!”

“I wanted a m-!” Haruna bit off what he was going to say, stopping mid shout and clenching his jaw, then let out a seething breath. When he continued his voice was low and hard, “I wanted a _partner_. Someone to help me lead this pack and run this clinic. But every chance you’ve gotten, you’ve refused to step up. You’re never going to be able to do this job if you don’t learn to follow, and you’ll never be able to lead if you don’t fucking _listen_ to the people you’re supposed to be taking care of. You can’t care for other wolves if you never learn what it means to be one.”

Abe gaped at him, his brain slow to process everything Haruna had said. Before he could formulate a response, the timer on his watch went off. He fumbled at the buttons, silencing the alarm, but by the time he did, Haruna had already turned away, “Go ahead and give him the next dose. It’s too late to go back anyway. I just want to make sure we didn’t miss anything, so we can be prepared for the worst.”

“Motoki, I-”

But Haruna just held up a hand and kept walking, “I’ll be in my office if you need me. I’m sleeping here tonight, just in case.”

Abe could only watch him disappear around the corner.

It hadn’t always been this way. For years, Haruna had been his best and most challenging mentor, someone who refused limits and pushed boundaries, and someone that Abe had desperately admired – at least until the boundaries he started pushing were Abe’s. It had been a long, long time since he’d stopped to think about what might have been – what would have happened if Haruna had given him time, and space. If Haruna had let him choose. As the echo of Haruna’s footsteps faded, Abe stood alone in the hallway and let himself wonder. Tried to picture himself as Haruna’s…partner. But as badly as he’d wanted it, once, after a minute he realized he couldn’t even imagine it anymore.

* * *

He’d gone outside to clear his head, but by the time he knelt back down beside Mihashi, Abe’s thoughts were in shambles and his hands were shaking. He hated the voice in the back of his head that told him he’d fucked up, that Haruna was right – that he’d been right about everything, and that Mihashi was going to be the one to suffer for it. He laid out his medic roll slowly, willing himself to stop trembling, waiting for what was probably only part adrenaline to wear off.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said, pulling out each of the needles and lining them up carefully on the floor. Haruna had tried to move the argument away, had tried to keep it quiet, but by the end they’d both wound up screaming at each other, like they always did. It would have been hard for Mihashi to miss.

It caught him off guard when Mihashi stood up and started moving towards him. Abe sat up straighter and started to apologize again, but Mihashi stopped just in front of him, pressing his nose to Abe’s and looking him in the eye. Abe went rigid with surprise, heat creeping into his cheeks as Mihashi licked him square on the mouth, then inched closer and laid his head on Abe’s shoulder. Then Mihashi leaned his head into the curve of Abe’s neck, and Abe instinctively wrapped his arms around him. He felt his face pinching up, his eyes starting to prickle, and what was he _thinking_ , letting himself be comforted by a _patient_. Someone who had been through hell and back and was about to go through something even worse.

But this was one particular gesture he’d never shared with anyone. He couldn’t imagine that Mihashi had, either, but… He leaned forward and rested his chin on Mihashi’s back. He was the wrong shape for it, in the wrong body to reciprocate properly, but he closed his eyes and held Mihashi close, letting the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing soothe his frayed nerves. After a minute, he pressed his face into Mihashi’s fur and murmured, “Tonight is going to be really hard on you, and it’s partly my fault. I’m sorry.”

Mihashi kicked him, just a little, and Abe let out a small, choked laugh, drawing back and reaching up to rub at his eyes. “Okay, fine. Then let’s get started.”

Mihashi backed off a little and laid back down, and Abe fed him a pill before picking up the first needle. “Once we do this, you’re going to start changing. It won’t happen right away, maybe not even for a few hours, but sometime tonight.” He pinched up the skin at the back of Mihashi’s neck, then stopped and leaned back, “If you start to feel it – if anything hurts, or feels weird, you have to let me know right away, okay? Don’t think you’re toughing it out. If you try to hide it, it’s going to make it worse, and I won’t be able to help you as much.”

Mihashi gave a small, affirmative chuff, and Abe nodded and poked the needle gently into his skin.

* * *

It was like waiting for a phone call, or bad news, knowing it was inevitable but not when it was coming. It set Abe’s teeth on edge. Dinner came half an hour later – spaghetti and meatballs for Abe, meatballs and another game of catch for Mihashi. When they ran out of food to chuck around the room, Abe read three pages of his forestry book out loud before Mihashi dragged the romance novel back out of Abe’s bag and dropped it in his lap.

They were five chapters into their second read-through when Mihashi let out a little yip.

Abe dropped the book. “What happened?”

Mihashi stood up and shuffled a few steps, looking bewildered but not yet alarmed as he tested out each of his feet in turn. Then one of his legs wobbled and gave out, and he slumped down onto the floor, shaking his head like he was dizzy.

Abe flipped open the medic roll and pulled out one of the pill bottles, shaking a big white tablet into his palm and holding it out to Mihashi. “Here, take this. It should kick in in time to help with the pain.” He gave it a little toss and Mihashi caught it, swallowing it down, and Abe pushed to his feet and moved around behind him, gently grabbing onto each of his back paws in turn and checking the mobility of his limbs. “Okay,” he said, stretching out Mihashi’s legs behind him so he was splayed out on his stomach, “Right now, your joints are loosening and breaking down. It’s going to make you feel rubbery and weird, but it’s going to help your body re-align itself into the right shape.”

Mihashi started to pull one of his legs back under him, but Abe caught his foot and drew it back, “I know it’s uncomfortable, and when it starts to hurt, you’re going to want to curl up even worse, but the straighter you can keep your body, the less likely it is that something will go wrong. Especially since this is going to go slow, clenching up is the worst thing you can do. Do you understand?”

Mihashi groaned, displeased, but rested his chin on the floor between his paws and stayed lying flat.

Abe picked up the book and started to read it again, just to keep Mihashi distracted, but he took an extra second to look at him every time he turned a page. The steady relaxing of his muscles made it look like he was slowly melting into the floor, spreading out and subtly losing shape.

It was another half hour before he heard the first _snap_. Mihashi jerked, more startled than hurt, and Abe rushed forward, soothing him and straightening his legs back out. His right ankle joint had been the first to go, leaving one leg unnaturally straightened as his bones started to realign themselves.

Waiting for the second break was a thousand times worse. Haruna’s warning looped through Abe’s head, and it was all he could do not to let his anxiety show. It took twenty minutes, and this time Mihashi let out a grunt of discomfort, but when Abe saw that it was his other ankle that had disjointed, he let out a huge sigh of relief. As slow as this was going, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to keep Mihashi alive if only one side of his body had transformed at a time. “You’re doing great,” he said, running his hands down along Mihashi’s legs, “You’re doing fantastic.”

He crawled around so he was facing Mihashi face first and lifted each of his front paws in turn. The joints hadn’t realigned yet, but the proportions of his legs were already shifting as his bones started to morph back into their human size and shape. He let out another relieved sigh. Perfect left-to-right and top-to-bottom symmetry. He hadn’t missed anything. He rubbed his hand over Mihashi’s head, then stood up and rapped on the door to their cell. The woman who’d brought them dinner appeared a few moments later, and Abe said, “Will you let Haruna know that my patient has started shifting, and that everything is proceeding normally?” She nodded, but before she could leave, Abe asked, “Who else is here tonight?”

“Tajima-san and Sakaeguchi-san are working in the lab. I think everyone else went home already.”

Abe nodded, “Let them know too, please?” She nodded again and disappeared down the hall, and Abe turned back to Mihashi. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

It was Mihashi’s knees that went next, making ugly popping and grinding noises as his femur elongated and the muscle and cartilage reknit into something that could stand upright. An hour after that, Mihashi’s shoulders started realigning, bone grinding against bone as his shoulder blades scraped along the top of his ribcage. Mihashi howled and writhed in pain, but all Abe could do was sit with him, hold his head in his lap and murmur soft reassurances to him.

By the time Abe’s watch went off again, Mihashi was a mess of mismatched parts, the proportions and angles of his body neither human nor canine. He was breathing hard, his heart rate a little faster than Abe would have liked, but not dangerously so. Almost as soon as he’d finished his next round of injections, though, Mihashi’s back arched sharply, snapping and popping and grinding as the bones at the base of his tail pulled up into his body and started turning back into his spine. Suddenly there was too much inside his torso, leaving his body bent at an unnatural angle, and Mihashi cried and wheezed, scraping his too-long paw against the floor.

And there was nothing Abe could do. All that could fix this was time, and every second was passing agonizingly slowly. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, hugging Mihashi’s neck and pressing his face against the top of his head, “I’m so, so sorry for doing this to you.” It should have taken minutes. It hurt bad enough when it only took minutes. He should have waited, should have convinced Mihashi to wait until after the full moon, because nothing was worth this.

It took almost an hour for Mihashi’s torso to even out. He’d only just started to catch his breath and relax when his hip spasmed and jerked, then _cracked_. Mihashi yelped in pain, scrabbling and twisting in Abe’s grip, feet pushing desperately at the floor as he curled in on himself, and before Abe could get him to straighten back out, a second loud, horrible _pop_ rang out as the other side of Mihashi’s hip slid back into place, and this time, Mihashi _screamed_ , his eyes wild with fear and pain, and Abe knew exactly what had happened. He sat up straight and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Tajima!” and then, because this was really, really bad, “Haruna! I need you!”

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, but Mihashi was incoherent with agony, dragging his claws against the concrete and letting out breathless, uncontrollable yelps. Abe pushed away and crawled back behind Mihashi. He’d moved his leg at just the wrong moment, and it had settled into his hip joint pointed the wrong direction. It had happened to Abe once when he was still just a pup; it was something that would correct itself eventually, but an “eventually” that shouldn’t have been more than few minutes was, for Mihashi, an “eventually” that could last for hours.

Haruna and Tajima came barreling through the door at the same time, and it was only when they stopped short that Abe realized he had tears streaming down his face. “Hold him down,” he said, wiping his eyes with his arm. “It’s his leg.”

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Tajima breathed, but Haruna was already there, straddling Mihashi’s back, sitting on his shoulders and bracing his hands against Mihashi’s hips, pinning him flat against the floor.

“Tajima, get over here,” Haruna said, cool and calm.

Tajima startled into motion, sliding onto the floor and wrapping his arms around Mihashi’s head, pinning his snout against his side and holding his jaw shut. He trapped each of Mihashi’s paws underneath a knee, then nodded, “I’ve got him.”

Abe took a steadying breath, then wrapped his arms around Mihashi’s thigh and _pulled_. Mihashi bucked, keening and breathing hard, but Tajima and Haruna kept him in place, and Abe pulled again until he felt Mihashi’s hip dislocate, then twisted his leg so it was pointing the right direction and shoved it back into place.

Mihashi stopped fighting immediately, his body going slack, and he heaved out a massive sigh, like all the air had been pressed out of his body at once. Abe braced his hands on Mihashi’s thighs and slumped forward, panting and trembling with adrenaline. When he reined himself in and looked up, he caught Haruna staring at him from just inches away, an odd expression on his face.

He expected an I-told-you-so, a flash of that arrogant, dismissive smile, but Haruna broke their stare, glancing down and sliding off Mihashi’s back to sit on the floor. “Should be downhill from here,” he said. “That was the last big hurdle.”

The last big hurdle, but not nearly the end. “The pain pills are going to start wearing off soon,” he said.

Haruna nodded abstractly, “It was smart to start with them, though, instead of trying to stretch it out. After a certain point, you can only feel so much pain, but it helps to have some presence of mind at the start.” Haruna turned and glanced over at Tajima, “How’s he doing?”

“He’s a fuckin’ champ,” Tajima said, grinning broadly. He was rubbing Mihashi’s cheeks, scruffing up his head affectionately (despite the fact that the bones in his face had started to shift and morph into something ever so slightly more human-looking). “If it were me, I’d be crying like a little bitch, but look how chill he is.” Mihashi turned his head and licked Tajima’s hand, and Tajima laughed, bright and exuberant, “See? Champ.”

Abe leaned back, resting his weight on his hands. He’d never met anyone as completely unflappable as Tajima. _He_ was about a minute away from throwing up in the corner from sheer anxiety, but Tajima’s mere presence seemed to have put Mihashi at ease. Well, at least one of them could do it. He got on his knees and crawled around to Mihashi’s side, sitting down across from Haruna. “Should be elbows next. If we’re lucky, he’ll get his neck back in place before the drugs wear off.”

“Besides the hip, everything’s gone smoothly?” Haruna asked.

“Yeah,” Abe said, nodding. When he stopped to consider it, though, he said, “Actually, more than smoothly. Like, textbook.” The more he thought about, the more he realized it was true, “Perfectly textbook.” That was hard to do even for someone with practice, who knew the signs and had some measure of control over the process. For a first-timer, it was unheard of.

“You think he might not actually be a pup?” Tajima asked.

Haruna shook his head, “No one fucks up their hip more than once or twice. It almost always happens the first time, because the hip goes so fast and it hurts so bad, but it’s not a mistake you make once you know what you’re doing.”

“Textbook, though?” Tajima said, glancing over at Abe.

He shrugged, “I could be wrong, but if I’m not…right elbow, left elbow, sternum, neck, then ribs. Right?”

“No one has that kind of control,” Haruna said. “Not their first time.”

Tajima grinned, “Fifty bucks on the pup.”

Haruna rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious!” Tajima said, then bent over Mihashi, planting a kiss to the top of his head, “You’ve got my back, right buddy? You’ve got this, right?”

“Or you could try _not_ making bets about my patient,” Abe muttered.

“Aww, don’t be like that Taka,” Tajima said. “You’re on board, right pup? Blow the big skeptical doc out of the water?”

Mihashi huffed out a noise that sounded like – no that definitely _was_ a laugh, strained and not quite human though it was.

“Double or nothing,” Abe said. “My money’s on Mihashi.”

Haruna rolled his eyes, “Fine. But don’t blame me when-”

“Wait, shut up,” Abe said, because Mihashi had let out the soft, pained little wheeze that he’d come to recognize as a sign that he could feel the pressure building.

Sure enough, a moment later his right elbow let out a loud, wet pop as a tendon hit its breaking point and snapped, freeing up the motion of his arm. His skin and fur shifted as his arm settled the rest of the way into his shoulder socket, and when he stretched it out in front of him, it looked very nearly human, except for the fur and claws.

“One down,” Tajima said, lifting Mihashi’s hand and giving him a gentle high five.

Abe shot him an icy look, but Tajima just winked and set Mihashi’s arm back down, then started gently massaging his bicep, checking to make sure the muscle was setting properly. When Tajima leaned back, though, Mihashi clenched his hand into a fist and let out a low growl that was somewhere between frustrated and pained.

“Whoa,” Tajima said.

“Mihashi?” Abe said. Mihashi growled again, pushing up on his good arm and stretching his still-wolfy arm out to the side. Bones ground in his not-quite-set shoulder, and Abe’s eyes went wide. “Mihashi, don’t-” He reached out to try to stop him, but before he could, Mihashi jerked his arm to one side, snapping the tendon by force. Abe let out a startled shout, and Mihashi cried out in pain, collapsing back down onto the floor. Abe leaned over him, hands hovering close but afraid to touch, “Oh my god, Mihashi, why-”

Abe’s eyes flicked to Haruna, and Haruna gave a small shake of his head, eyes a little wide. He shouldn’t have been able to do that.

“Buddy, we were just joking about the bet,” Tajima said, sounding pretty shaken himself as he pressed a hand to Mihashi’s shoulder.

Then Mihashi reached out, grabbed onto Abe’s hand, and _squeezed_. It was a clumsy grip, the sharp tips of Mihashi’s claws pressing into the back of his hand, but there was fire in it – resolve. Then he let out an unnatural wheezing, rasping noise that…

“Tajima, move,” Abe said.

“What?”

“Move,” he said, giving him a little nudge and taking his place in front of Mihashi. Abe leaned in and pressed his ear to the side of Mihashi’s neck and gave his hand a squeeze, “Say it again.”

For a moment, all he heard was Mihashi’s labored breathing, the pulse thundering beneath his skin. Then, like the sound of tires rolling through gravel, Mihashi’s voice rumbled against his ear as he said, “ _Please_.” Every hair on Abe’s body stood on end, a prickle chasing down his spine. He started to draw back, but Mihashi gripped his hand tighter, nails pressing hard enough to draw blood, and his broken voice rumbled, “ _Let me… try_.”

This time Abe jerked back in surprise. What Mihashi was suggesting was impossible. There was no way he could fight against the toxic cocktail of drugs still mingling in his system. Except…

Except that he’d literally just done it. They’d given him the roughest roadmap of what was supposed to happen, and he’d immediately started pushing, practically ripping his way out of his own body to get there.

Abe looked down at him, ignoring the impossibility of the proposition and weighing it as an option. Mihashi was a fighter, and he was still holding on to his presence of mind. The painkillers would wear off soon, and it would be better if they could get him a little farther along before they did, since he wouldn’t be able to give him another dose for a few more hours. After a minute of considering, Abe nodded, “Okay. But you have to let me take the lead. I don’t want you hurting yourself on accident and making it worse.”

Mihashi nodded, squeezing his hand.

“Wait, what?” Haruna said, sitting up straighter. “What, exactly, are you planning on doing?”

“Helping him along a little,” Abe said. “Theoretically.”

“That’s-”

“Impossible,” Abe said, “I know.”

“Reckless,” Haruna snapped.

Abe nodded, brushing his fingertips gently along Mihashi’s cheek and speaking to him instead of Haruna, “If we go too fast, your body won’t be able to heal quickly enough to keep up with the damage. You could go into shock, and if your body keeps shifting on its own, it could kill you. If you wait, it’ll only be a few more hours, and-”

Mihashi reached up and gripped Abe by the back of his neck, drawing him back down and rasping again, “ _Please_.”

Abe closed his eyes, pressing his face gently into Mihashi’s fur. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, let’s try it.”

“You’re insane,” Haruna said, but more like he was stating a plain and obvious fact than admonishing him.

“I know,” he said, pushing to his feet and moving to stand over Mihashi, one foot planted to either side of his hips. “Haruna, hold his legs. Tajima, can you get in front of him? We’re going to try to pop his sternum.”

Tajima looked bewildered for just a moment before he threw his head back and started laughing. “Oh my god, I’m so glad I traded shifts with Mizutani tonight.” He scooted around to kneel in front of to Mihashi, grinning and scruffing up his cheeks, “Forget champion, you’re a fucking rockstar, buddy.” He grinned up at Abe, “Looks like you finally met your match for recklessness, Taka.”

But looking down at Mihashi, remembering the feel of his grip on his hand, it didn’t seem so reckless. “You ready?” He asked.

Mihashi nodded.

“Okay,” he said, crouching down and lifting each of Mihashi’s arms in turn, rotating them gently at the shoulder. His joints were still too relaxed for him to do this on his own, his body limp as a rag doll. “Just try to breathe. Slow and deep. In… and out.” He kept repeating it until Mihashi was breathing with him, slow and even, then got down on his knees so he was kneeling over Mihashi’s waist. He cast a glance back over his shoulder, making sure Haruna was ready, then hooked his arms in underneath Mihashi’s armpits, looping them around his shoulders. “You sure about this?” Mihashi gave a small nod, and Abe lifted him up, gently pulling his shoulders up off the ground and arching his back.

A soft pop sounded from the center of Mihashi’s chest, and he made a low grunt of discomfort.

“Okay,” Abe said, “that was the easy part. You still want to keep going?” Mihashi nodded, and Abe started gradually pulling his shoulders back more sharply. The muscles in Mihashi’s chest made a series of increasingly loud snapping and tearing noises, and he let out a surprisingly human-sounding cry of pain.

“It’s okay,” Abe said, “just keep breathing. You’re almost there.” He held him still for a moment, letting him catch his breath before saying, “This next part is really going to hurt. Are you ready?” Mihashi let out a small, mewling little sound of pain, but after just a moment, he nodded, and Abe gave both of his shoulders a swift, sharp tug.

Mihashi screamed, and his chest _cracked_.

Abe let go of him immediately, lowering him gently back to the floor and leaning over him, stroking his head, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Mihashi reached up and took Abe’s hand again, and Abe let out a breathless, giddy laugh, “I can’t believe we just did that.” At the rate things were going, it would have taken them at least another agonizing hour to get to this point. “You really are a rockstar.” When Mihashi’s breathing started to even out, Abe slid off his back and onto the floor. “Try to rest up,” he said, running a soothing hand down along Mihashi’s back, “it might be a little while before your neck goes.”

Tajima rubbed Mihashi’s head, “Can’t we do something about his neck, too?”

Abe shook his head, “The last cervical vertebra won’t shift back into place until the muscles in his shoulders start to set. It’s not like we could just-”

“Pull it out?” Tajima said, sounding entirely too eager.

“That- _no_! Absolutely not. That’s crazy.”

“Actually,” Haruna said, like he was almost surprised the words were coming out of his own mouth, “it might not be.”

“What?” Abe said.

“If we can get it to move before his muscles re-harden, it would actually do less damage, and it wouldn’t hurt as bad. Right?”

Abe blinked, “Are you actually asking me?”

Haruna scratched his head, “Maybe? I mean, I’ve had patients that had the C-7 vertebra get stuck because the muscle didn’t push it out properly, and we had to basically tear it through. It’s like-”

“Popping a really big, nasty pimple,” Tajima said, shuddering.

“…not what I would have gone with, but sure,” Haruna said. “Theoretically I could do the same thing now, but without the muscle resistance, it would more or less just slip through.”

“And if you pull too hard?” Abe asked.

“Not much chance of that. It’s not like the top tailbones. It won’t give _that_ fast.”

Abe didn’t like it, but he tried to suppress the instinctive prickle of mistrust that bubbled up in his chest basically any time Haruna ever suggested anything. He looked to Mihashi, “What do you think?”

Mihashi nodded once, firmly.

“Alright,” Abe said, waving Tajima to the side so Haruna could take his place near Mihashi’s head. “Fuck it. Let’s do science.”

Haruna smirked, “That’s more like the Taka I remember.”

Abe was surprised to realize that felt like a compliment.

Haruna inched in close to Mihashi, kneeling just in front of his head. He smoothed his hands slowly along the sides of Mihashi’s neck, from the tops of his shoulders up to the base of his jaw and back down, then did it again. He prodded him gently with his fingertips, staring abstractly at the far wall, “Feels like they’re starting to get their shape back already.” He rubbed small circles against Mihashi’s still-furred skin, lifting and gently turning his head, loosening his neck and locating each bone. Then he said, “Alright, on three,” and curled his hands almost all the way around Mihashi’s neck, bracing his thumbs against his spine. “One, two-” and pulled.

Mihashi’s neck let out a wet, sucking _pop_ , and Mihashi gasped in a ragged breath as his windpipe shifted with the bone, then immediately started coughing.

“Congratulations,” Haruna said, patting Mihashi on the back, “You’re basically human-shaped again.”

“And you owe us each a hundred bucks,” Tajima said, pointing between himself and Abe.

Haruna scoffed, “Would you take a paid day off?”

“Done,” Tajima said.

“You’re only offering because you know I’d never use it,” Abe said.

“Maybe not never,” Haruna said, giving him a pointed little glance. Abe followed his gaze down to where – oh. He hadn’t realized he was still holding Mihashi’s hand. He almost pulled his hand back, just to defy Haruna’s little smirk, but he didn’t. By the time he looked back up, Haruna had already turned his attention back to Mihashi. “This pup is something else,” Haruna said, giving Mihashi’s back another solid pat. “What’s really impressive, though, is that he didn’t waste any energy on the non-essential stuff. Ridiculously cute, right?” He pinched the tips of Mihashi’s still-wolfy ears, giving them a little wiggle. Mihashi flicked his ears, shooing Haruna’s hands away, and Haruna laughed, ruffling his head. “It’s a compliment,” he said. “The first time Yuu shifted back, he spent almost five minutes as a bald little pup with a stump tail and two sets of ears.”

Haruna said it with the fondness of a favorite memory, and Abe felt a little twinge of… regret? or something like it that he hadn’t been there to see it. Tajima laughed, “You’re the one who told me to visualize being a human. Humans don’t come covered in fur. Well, unless you’re Taka.”

“Hey!” Abe said.

“Man, don’t even. You have the hairiest legs I’ve ever _seen_. You give Azusa a run for his money when he’s in his _wolf_ form, and he’s a shaggy son of a bitch.”

Abe opened his mouth to object, then realized abruptly that he’d never actually seen Hanai in his wolf form. He recovered quickly, though, and shot back, “Hey, at least I _have_ hair.”

“Oooh,” Tajima said, laughing, “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

Abe shrugged, “I’ll tell him you compared his luxurious coat to my leg hair.”

“…Touché.”

“As fascinating as I’m sure our patient finds this conversation,” Haruna said, “we should probably let him get some rest.”

“What about his ribs?” Tajima asked.

“Unless either of you have any more crazy ideas, I think he’s going to have to wait it out. The good news, though,” he said, leaning down and speaking to Mihashi, “is that the ribs are a little scary, but they don’t really hurt. From here on out, you’re going to be achy and sore and really, really itchy, but you’ve already made it through the worst of the pain.”

Mihashi groaned, and Haruna laughed and ruffled his ears again.

“Should we move him to one of the patient rooms?” Tajima asked.

Haruna frowned. “I want to say he’s still too lax to move, but if his ribs go as slow as the rest of him, it might not be a bad idea to have him near some oxygen. And a bed would be more comfortable than the floor, at least.” He glanced over at Abe, “What do you think?”

Abe rubbed the back of Mihashi’s hand gently with his thumb, looking down at him thoughtfully. After a minute said, “Yeah, better to have it and not need it. If you two go get a room set up, I can carry him in.”

“Sure,” Haruna said, pushing to his feet and nodding for Tajima to follow after him.

Abe took a minute to re-pack his bag and tidy the room up a little, giving Mihashi as much time as he could for his muscles to settle before he squatted down next to him. “This is going to feel really weird,” he said, “because you’re basically a warm candy bar right now. But I don’t have to take you very far.”

Mihashi gave him an affirming nod, and Abe rolled him carefully onto his back, supporting his back and neck so he didn’t bend in a direction he wasn’t supposed to. Then he hooked one arm in underneath Mihashi’s knees and cradled the other one around his shoulders and neck, lifting him gingerly up off the floor. It was like holding a big piece of overcooked spaghetti, all the muscles in his body turned to mush as they reshaped themselves. He made sure Mihashi wasn’t going to melt right out of his grip, then started for the door.

“Haruna’s in Room 3,” Tajima said, meeting him halfway down the hall. He leaned in close to peek at Mihashi, “Look at this little goober. Like a grown-ass, newborn baby.”

“I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment,” Abe said dryly, hefting Mihashi in his arms. “Can you grab my stuff and lock up?”

Tajima nodded and headed past him, and Abe kept walking toward the patient wing. There was only one light on at the end of the hall, and he followed it into a small white room with a hospital bed and some scant furniture and medical equipment. Haruna had just finished hooking up the oxygen, and Abe shooed him out of the way so he could lay Mihashi down.

“Everything’s all set up if you need it,” Haruna said.

Abe nodded, tucking Mihashi carefully under the sheets and a thin blanket, “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Haruna made a small, affirmative hum. After a moment, he asked, “Are you okay to keep watch by yourself?”

“Yeah. Like you said before, it should be relatively smooth sailing from here on out.”

Haruna looked at him, weighing him for a moment, then said, “You’ve been awake for a long time.”

Abe breathed out a little laugh, “I don’t even know what time it is.”

“Almost dawn,” he said, “I think.”

There were no windows in this room to judge by, but as soon as he said it, it sounded right. Abe rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling the weight of the last two days, “Once his ribs go, theoretically we can both get some sleep.”

“I could call Izumi,” Haruna said. Then, seeming to think better of it, “Or Nishihiro.”

Abe shook his head, “I want too see him all the way through.”

“If you’re sure,” Haruna said. He reached down and smoothed his hand over Mihashi’s ears, pressing them back and then letting them flip back up, “I’ll come check on you in a few hours.” He patted Mihashi’s head, then slipped past Abe and headed for the door, “Just call if you need me.”

“Motoki,” Abe said. Haruna stopped mid-step. Abe took a steadying breath. “Thanks.”

He didn’t turn around, just gave a tight nod. “Any time.”

* * *

When Tajima had come and gone, leaving them alone for the night (or, rather, the morning), Abe dragged a small plastic chair across the room and sat down next to Mihashi’s bed. Now that the steady assault of pressure and pain had finally abated, Mihashi was quickly succumbing to his exhaustion; he was only just barely awake, his breathing already turned slow and steady and deep.

Abe folded his arms on the edge of the bed near Mihashi’s head and rested his chin on his hands. “Hey,” he said softly, and when Mihashi opened his eyes and looked over at him, his irises were no longer lupine, but they were still that same impossibly beautiful shade of gold. For a moment, Abe forgot what he was saying. “Uh,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Before you fall asleep, I wanted to tell you what’s going to happen next, because it… well, because it’s really scary.”

Mihashi shifted a little and turned his head, giving Abe his attention. His face was so close to being human that it made Abe more curious than ever to know what he would look like when the rest of his snout and the fur receded.

He cleared his throat again. “In a little while, your chest is going to start feeling tight, like you’re being squeezed, and the tighter it gets, the harder it’s going to be to breathe. I don’t know if you remember from when you turned, but when you shift into wolf form, there’s a moment where it feels like your lungs are so full of air they’re about to burst. What’s going to happen now is the opposite of that. The size and shape of your ribs is changing, and you’re going to feel that for a while. The cartilage holding your ribcage in place is also much more elastic when you’re a wolf, and it’s going to start tightening up before your ribs are finished changing back. That’s going to make you feel like you’re suffocating, but if you panic and start hyperventilating, it’s going to make it worse. You just have to force yourself to remember that you’re still getting enough air, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

Mihashi closed his eyes and nodded, looking tired and resigned.

“I’m sorry,” Abe said, for the millionth time that night.

Mihashi reached over and pressed his hand to Abe’s mouth, silencing him.

* * *

His ribs took their sweet time, maybe because they’d rushed through everything else. Abe was both restless and exhausted, but he kept his eyes fixed on Mihashi while he slept. It was actually the fur that disturbed Mihashi’s rest first, the persistent itch of it receding back into his skin making him toss and turn, shuffle and scratch beneath the blankets, and rub his shoulders and back miserably against the mattress, making soft, unhappy noises in the back of his throat. Abe gently peeled down the covers and guided Mihashi back onto his stomach. His back was still covered in soft, short golden fuzz, but little enough of it that Abe could see the skin beneath it. He raked his fingernails lightly down the dip of Mihashi’s spine, and Mihashi shuddered, sighing in relief. He kept scratching lightly up and down along Mihashi’s back, attentive when Mihashi shifted or stretched, doing his best to give him relief where he needed it.

He didn’t know how tall Mihashi was supposed to be, so it was hard to say how close his limbs were to evening out, but he was finally really starting to look human, his puffy tail losing its shape and the triangle points of his ears starting to droop and disappear into his scalp. It wouldn’t be long now. Abe glanced down at his watch and realized they were barely twenty minutes away from Mihashi’s last round of medication. He retrieved the medic roll from where Tajima had left it by the door and opened it, pulling out one of the pill bottles before putting a hand on Mihashi’s shoulder and shaking him gently.

Mihashi blinked awake, rubbing his eyes groggily, and Abe realized his claws had turned back to nails.

“Here, take this,” he said. “It’s a little early, but I want to give it a head start. I think your next round of shots will set off your ribs, and this should help it go faster.” Mihashi nodded, taking the pill, and Abe asked, “Do you need some water?”

But Mihashi had already popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed it dry.

“You don’t let anything slow you down, do you?” Abe marveled.

Mihashi shook his head quickly and pulled back under the covers, evidently embarrassed by the mere suggestion.

Abe breathed out a soft laugh, “Still no vocal cords?”

Mihashi kept shaking his head, hiding his face behind the blankets.

“Go ahead and try to get some more sleep,” Abe said, reaching up and ruffling Mihashi’s…

…hair. His very soft, very golden, very _human_ mop of hair.

Mihashi glanced up at him, and Abe’s cheeks went red. “Sorry,” he said, drawing his hand back, but Mihashi stayed looking up at him. After a moment, he reached over, took Abe’s hand, and put it back on top of his head. Abe hesitated for a moment, but when Mihashi closed his eyes and snuggled down against his pillow, he started rubbing gentle circles against Mihashi’s scalp with his fingertips, and kept doing it even after Mihashi fell back to sleep.

* * *

This time, there was no scruff left at the back of Mihashi’s neck, so Abe had to inject the last round of medication into the meat of his arm instead. He’d only made it through the first three when Mihashi clutched his hand to his chest and sucked in a startled breath. 

“Relax,” Abe said, administering the last of the shots as quickly as he could. “Don’t try to breathe deeply. Just do it slowly, like we practiced earlier.”

This part was, objectively, not a big deal. It was almost impossible for anything to go wrong – or at least, for it to go catastrophically wrong, even with the transformation slowed down as dramatically as it had been for Mihashi. But despite the fact that most of the rest of the staff brushed it off as the easy part, to Abe it had always been the worst. Unlike the rest of the process, there was no confirmation that something was happening – no sound or pain or physical change to signal what was going on or when it would end, just a sudden sense of oppression that only got worse the harder you resisted it.

The first time Abe had turned back into a human, he hadn’t been conscious. He’d woken up in a hospital bed days after the moon had started to wane with no recollection of the missing time and nothing learned from the experience except what he Haruna had told him before they’d set out, which he no longer trusted. The second time, he’d been alone in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night, and his leg had set wrong, and there hadn’t been anyone to help him right it, and then his ribs had taken hold of him, and he’d almost suffocated under the clear black sky, panic making him claw bloody ribbons on his own skin, fighting against the invisible vise clamping down on his chest.

He’d never forgotten that feeling.

And so when Mihashi’s breath hitched again and he sat up, pressing his other hand to his chest frantically, Abe leaned over and grabbed him gently by both wrists, “Relax. You have all the air you need. Just breathe slowly.”

Mihashi nodded, but there was fear in his eyes, and his breath was still coming in quick, short little gasps.

“Hey,” Abe said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and giving Mihashi’s arms a gentle tug to get his attention, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me.”

Mihashi nodded, but he was still breathing too fast. He’d been calm through most of the rest of the transformation, or at least in too much pain and too focused to have time to panic, but this was different – more insidious, and coming on the tail end of hours of relative down time. And he was more human, now, without the same calm, steady backing of his wolf to help him the rest of the way.

Abe reached up and cupped Mihashi’s face in his hands. “Look at me,” he said gently. “It feels like there’s a weight on your chest, right?” Mihashi gave a small nod. “But it’s only scary because you can’t see what’s doing it. It wouldn’t be scary if you had a big, heavy dog sleeping on you, or if someone were hugging you really tight. You’d just try to get comfortable and adjust your breathing, right?” Mihashi nodded again, just a little. Abe stroked his cheek gently with his thumb, “So close your eyes, try to imagine that, and relax. Okay?”

Mihashi took a small, slow breath and nodded, closing his eyes.

It worked for a little while, his breathing evening out and slowing down, but Abe could practically feel the tension radiating off him as his ribs continued to morph and constrict, out of synch with the changes to the rest of his body and internal organs. After almost half an hour, Abe had to admit that this wasn’t something Mihashi was going to be able to visualize his way through. He reached out and took Mihashi’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, the feelings of guilt and helplessness that had plagued him all evening washing over him again full force. Mihashi was exhausted and afraid, all his fight and verve used up to get him this far, and Abe was at a loss for what to do.

When Mihashi started making soft, frightened sounds, Abe cursed his own stubbornness, wishing he’d let Haruna call someone who could have handled this better. But what would someone else have done that he couldn’t? What would Tajima have done in his place?

He sat up straighter, realizing that he knew _exactly_ what Tajima would do. Abe glanced down at Mihashi, frowning. Haruna and Tajima both talked about the ‘healing power of touch’ so often it had started to sound like a bad pickup line, and Hanai’s resocialization program revolved around collective touch therapy (or, as Tajima liked to call it, “the cuddle pile”), but it was a philosophy that had never really resonated with Abe.

Then again, that was exactly what Haruna had criticized him for, wasn’t it? He’d spent most of his time as a werewolf either actively avoiding his packmates or putting his patients in a chokehold; the very notion of touch between wolves being positive – let alone healing – still felt alien to him. But if it worked for them…

“Scoot over,” he said, giving Mihashi a gentle nudge.

Mihashi blinked up at him, bewildered, but when Abe nudged him again, he shuffled over to the other side of the bed.

Abe laid himself down on top of the blankets, stiff and awkward, and put an arm around Mihashi’s ribs, pulling him gently against his chest. His face was _burning_ , and his voice came out a little more churlish and sulky than he’d intended, “So you don’t have to pretend.”

Mihashi’s fingertips touched Abe’s arm, tentative and surprised like he wasn’t sure it was real, and after just a moment of hesitation, he rolled over on his side, facing away from Abe, and snuggled himself back against his chest. Abe’s eyes widened in surprise, and his face only burned hotter, but he was committed now, and Mihashi obviously wasn’t objecting, so… He squeezed Mihashi a little tighter, nuzzling his nose down into his soft blonde hair the way he’d sometimes seen Tajima do to Izumi to try to get him to cheer up.

It was ridiculous, and _embarrassing_ , but as soon as Mihashi settled against him, his breathing started to slow and even out. The logical part of his brain started churning. Was it just the distraction that did it, like he’d intended, or was it the touch itself, the presence of another wolf, that had –

Mihashi threaded his fingers between Abe’s and squeezed his hand, and Abe’s mind went blank. He wasn’t used to being this close to anyone except maybe his dog, and Mihashi’s gentle touch shut down his inner scientist and shut up the human part of him that was balking at the intimacy. With his thoughts silenced, there was nothing but the press of skin on skin, the warmth of Mihashi’s body against his, the shallow rhythm of his breathing, and the steady beat of his heart.

…And something more than that, he realized, as he started to relax into the cadence of Mihashi’s body – as he slowed, and forgot himself, and started to listen. It was…different, somehow; fundamentally different in a way that Abe didn’t recognize, but wanted to understand. He closed his eyes, listening and feeling, letting his breathing slow to match Mihashi’s, willing their hearts to beat in tandem. He felt safe, he realized abstractly. Relaxed and drowsy on the edge of sleep. And warm, like there was sun shining on his face, the air filled with the scent of grass and the earthy smell of coming rain.

It made his wolf stir inside him, languid and unexpectedly content, and at every point of contact, he could sense something alive and golden beneath Mihashi’s skin responding to his presence.

But the sky gradually began to darken, heavy gray clouds slowly blocking out the sun, and a fat drop of cold water fell on Abe’s face.

He jerked awake, startled and disoriented, tendrils of the dream lingering in his mind and making him feel disconnected from his body. He didn’t know how much time had passed, how long he had been asleep – didn’t even remember _falling_ asleep – but Mihashi’s presence grounded him. He had turned over at some point and cuddled in close, the top of his head tucked gently under Abe’s chin, cheek pressed gently to his chest. His body was tense against Abe’s, his fingertips digging into the meat of Abe’s bicep, and his breathing had turned to a slow, painful wheeze, each breath a fight for air.

“It’s okay,” he said, gently cradling Mihashi’s head against his chest, “it’s going to be okay. You’re almost there.”

Mihashi’s slow, wheezing breaths only got shorter, until he was sucking in tiny sips of air, his too-thin body trembling against Abe’s. And then he pulled in one last, tight, panicked breath before he stopped breathing entirely, his whole body going rigid at once, then lashing out, bucking against Abe’s grip.

Abe leapt out of the bed, scrambling to grab onto Mihashi’s wrists as he started trying to claw at his chest and throat, then pinning him down against the bed. Mihashi fought his hold, twisting and writhing and kicking, and when he couldn’t break away, he started trying to crawl back along the bed, possessed by fear and trying to flee, tears spilling silently down his cheeks as he scrabbled against the sheets.

Then his whole body jerked as something shifted inside him, and he sucked in a ragged, desperate breath. It sounded painful, like he’d breathed in shards of glass, but it didn’t stop him from heaving in one huge gulp of air after another, frantic gasps that gave way to ragged panting that gave way to bone-weary sobbing. Mihashi grabbed desperately at Abe, pulling him closer before trapping him in his arms and curling against him, crying into his shirt. Abe held him against his chest, murmuring softly, “I’m so sorry.”

And then, in a voice so small and broken it hardly sounded real, Mihashi said, “Thank you.” It was the last thing in the world he deserved to hear after the hell he’d just put him through, but Mihashi curled his hands in Abe’s shirt, still letting out choked, heavy sobs, and said again, “Thank you so much.”

Abe tightened his arms around Mihashi’s head, pressed his face down into his hair, and cried with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theshannonlewis on twitter and tumblr. Hit me up! I am always down to talk about baseballs. 
> 
> (Also, dear wonderful people who left comments on the first chapter: I see you! I love you! I will respond to you! I have not yet primarily because I've written north of 30k words since I posted the first chapter, which has left me short on time and mental fortitude.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Abe gets an unexpected surprise, Mihashi is subjected to a crash course in Werewolves 101, and Abe learns a few things in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's still Abe's birthday somewhere. Happy Birthday, you grumpy baby ::pops a party popper:: Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> (Now with more [GORGEOUS FANART](http://seasaltinecrackers.tumblr.com/post/133709910515/hey-do-u-like-oofuri-and-also-werewolves-cause-if) that makes my HEART HURT)

Abe woke to the sound of a door opening. He’d spent the whole night sitting at Mihashi’s bedside, one of Mihashi’s hands held in both of his, head rested on the edge of the bed. His whole body protested when he sat up and turned toward the sound. “Shiga?” he said, still blurry with sleep.

Shiga closed the door quietly behind him. “Sorry to wake you,” he said, voice just above a whisper, “but I wanted to have a word with your patient before I head home for the day.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine,” Abe said, slowly coming back to himself. He rubbed at the drool crusted on his cheek, standing up a little stiffly, “I apologize for-”

“It’s fine,” Shiga said, holding up a hand. “I wanted to let you both rest as long as I could.”

Abe nodded, absently rubbing at his eyes, “What time is it?”

“Just after six,” he said. Then, before Abe could ask, he clarified, “At night. It’s also Tuesday, if you weren’t sure.”

Abe breathed a soft laugh, “That obvious?”

Shiga shrugged, “I heard you broke your own personal record for overtime.”

Abe groaned, “Someone keeps track of that?”

“Supposedly there’s a betting pool.”

“Izumi?”

“Probably.” Shiga nodded toward Mihashi, “Will you introduce me?”

“Right, of course,” Abe said, trying to shake off his exhaustion. He turned back toward the bed to wake Mihashi, but stopped short and sucked in a soft, surprised breath. Mihashi had finished shifting while Abe had been asleep, and now that his face was fully human again, Abe realized that he recognized him. For a moment, he forgot that Shiga was standing two feet behind him and just stared. Mihashi-his-patient was Mihashi _Ren_ , the ace pitcher on his college baseball team, someone he’d spent the better part of a year staring holes in from afar, and…

…and breathtakingly beautiful up close. Mihashi was still sound asleep despite Shiga’s presence, and looked peaceful and relaxed except for a small crinkle of worry between his eyebrows. His lips were just slightly parted and he was snoring quietly, a warm, rosy tint to his cheeks. Abe was pretty sure he was older than Shiga had guessed – closer to mid twenties than late teens – but had an adorable little button nose and a round face with a gently pointed chin that made it a little hard to say for sure.

Abe brushed Mihashi’s hair out of his eyes. It was long and a little shaggy, and almost the exact color his fur had been. “Hey,” he said quietly, reaching down to give Mihashi’s shoulder a gentle shake. “You in there?”

Mihashi shifted under the covers, making a small, sleepy sound as he started to wake. After a moment, he propped himself up on one elbow and murmured blearily, “Taka?”

Heat rushed into Abe’s face like he’d been set on fire. How had he-? Where did he-? Why had he-? _Had he recognized him, too?!_

But Abe was a professional. He took a steadying breath and said, “Hey,” doing his best to sound relaxed and casual, “I’m sorry for waking you up. One of our doctors – Dr. Shiga – wants to take a look at you, make sure everything went smoothly, and see how you’re doing.”

Mihashi glanced warily up at Shiga, who had come to stand at Abe’s side. “W...what, uhm…?”

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Shiga said, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Mihashi’s bed, “I mostly just want to talk. You’ve been through a lot, and I want to make sure you’re healthy and help you get started transitioning back into your normal life.”

Mihashi looked to Abe, who said, “It’s okay. He won’t bite.”

“…c-can… stay?”

Abe glanced over at Shiga, who gave a small shake of his head. He’d expected as much – Shiga was fantastic at getting people to open up, but it was always harder with an audience, and Abe knew himself at least well enough to know that he’d get in the way when Shiga started asking the hard questions. “Sorry,” Abe said, giving Mihashi a weak smile, “I’m banned from taking care of humans, and I’ve already heard Shiga’s ‘So You’re A Werewolf Now’ speech.” Mihashi’s brow crinkled, and Abe reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, “It’s okay. I’ll be right outside.”

Mihashi looked up at him, obviously tense and nervous, but after a moment gave him a small, determined nod.

“Right outside,” Abe repeated, then scooped his duffel bag up off the floor and headed out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind him. He leaned against the wall just to one side of the door and dropped his bag at his feet, closing his eyes and sighing. Mihashi Ren. Shit. He scrubbed his face with his hands and slid down along the wall until he was squatting, elbows propped on his knees and face hidden in his hands. Of all the people in the world. Fuck.

Abe tried to think rationally. In all probability, Mihashi hadn’t recognized him. They’d seen each other face to face maybe a handful of times, and hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words. As far as Mihashi was concerned, they’d probably never met before Abe had walked into that holding cell. Except. Except Mihashi had just called him by name – by his _first_ name, and that… That meant. If he _did_ recognize him… at least it meant he didn’t think he was a creep, maybe? He sighed, groaning and running his hands back through his hair in frustration.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Abe looked up and found Shinooka standing in front of him. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t even heard her coming. She reached over and smoothed down Abe’s hair. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got gently mauled by a semi truck,” he said, pushing back up to his feet.

“I’m sorry we had to wake you,” she said, “but you were disturbing the other patients.”

“What?”

“You and Mihashi,” she said, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t even know how the two of you managed to stay asleep, you were both snoring so loud. Like a pair of buzzsaws in there.”

“Him too?”

“Even worse now that he’s human again. Like a symphony of snoring. You wouldn’t believe. I should have recorded it.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping a fingertip to her lips, “Actually, Izumi might have. You should ask him.”

Abe ran a hand down his face, “Great.”

“How’s he adjusting?” Shinooka asked, suddenly serious.

“I don’t really know,” Abe admitted. “I only woke up when Shiga came in, and he gave me the boot pretty fast.”

Shinooka nodded, “Did you get a chance to talk to him at all? Haruna’s worried he’s going to have trouble remembering how to speak.”

Abe shook his head, “What little he said, he was mumbling and stuttering, but I think that’s at least partly just how he talks.”

“Wait what? You know who he is?”

“Yeah. His name is Mihashi Ren. He was in one of the sections of LYC-101 I TA’d for last year, and he was on the baseball team after I quit.”

“That’s weird,” Shinooka said. “If he’s local, you’d think we would have found a missing person report.”

“I don’t think his family is from around here,” Abe said. He’d transferred from another university to join the team, at least. He also didn’t seem like the type to have a lot of friends, and since he’d _left_ the team at the end of the last season… it was entirely possible that no one had even noticed he was missing. “Hopefully we’ll be able to contact someone to come take him home.”

Shinooka wrinkled her nose, “If he was gone as long as you think he was, he might not still have a place to go back to.”

Abe hadn’t stopped to consider that. Worst case, though, he could stay at the clinic for a little while. It wasn’t a great solution, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t spare a bed. He glanced nervously back at the door. The patient rooms were well soundproofed, but he suddenly wished he could hear what Shiga was saying. The last few days had been hell for Mihashi – to say nothing of the last several weeks – but while Abe’s job was ostensibly done, Mihashi had only taken the first step back towards normalcy. If someone had turned him out and dumped all his earthly possessions for missing two month’s rent, the process was going to be a hell of a lot harder.

“Abe,” Shinooka said gently. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

Abe shook his head, “I told him I’d be waiting out here.”

“You know how long-winded Shiga is. You can at least grab something to eat and take a little nap.”

“What if-”

“Abe,” she said more sternly, “you’ve been here for more than 48 hours. You look like hell, and you need a shave and a shower. You smell like dog.”

He looked at her helplessly, and she took his hands and pulled him gently away from the wall, “Come on, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know once Shiga wraps up his spiel. There’s some sandwiches left from lunch in the kitchen, and I’ll leave your bag and a towel in the bathroom in Room 5.”

Abe let out a tired laugh, “Haruna should really-”

“Pay me more. I know. Now go get yourself cleaned up.”

* * *

Showering helped more than Abe wanted to admit, the hot water chasing the ache out of his muscles and the thoughts from his head. He stayed leaning against the shower wall, water pounding on his head and down his back, until he couldn’t justify staying there anymore. Then he toweled off, shaved, dressed, and repacked his bag, trying to ignore the fact that his dirty clothes really did smell like Mihashi.

When Abe stepped out into the patient room, he found Izumi sitting on the edge of the unmade hospital bed, thumbing through his phone. “…what are you doing here?”

“Wasting my break,” Izumi said, pocketing his phone and standing up, “making sure you didn’t pass out in the shower.” Abe shot him a sour look, and Izumi shrugged. “Our patron saint was worried,” he said, pressing his palms together and giving him a little bow. When he looked up, though, his eyes were twinkling, “She also told me that your pup is actually Mihashi Ren.”

Of course. “Don’t,” Abe said, starting to head for the door.

Izumi slid in front of him, grinning, “So it’s true. It _is_ him.”

“Yes, it’s him, now would you please-”

But Izumi settled himself in the door frame, one arm braced against either side, weight leaned casually on one foot, “Are you going to ask him out?”

“He’s my _patient_.”

“Not after tomorrow he won’t be.”

“Izumi,” Abe said, trying to duck under his arm through the open door. When Izumi shifted, blocking him again, Abe said, “Kousuke, I’m not in the mood.”

Izumi sighed, crossing his arms over his chest but not moving out of the way, “You know, I keep hoping that one day you’re going to grow a sense of humor. Or, like, maybe a personality.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Abe said gruffly, squeezing past him. Izumi caught his arm, and he shrugged him off, “I need to get back.”

Izumi shook his head, not letting Abe go, “Shiga called Haruna in there ten minutes ago.” Abe tensed, casting a worried glance down the hall, but Izumi said, “Chill, he’s fine, but I think they’re having communication issues. Shiga said to tell you he thought they’d be at it for a while.”

“He said that?”

“Actually, he said to tell you to go home for the day, but since I know better, I’m enlisting you to come help me fold some laundry.”

“What a pal,” Abe said, but when Izumi pushed past him and started heading down the hall, he trailed after him, following him through the kitchen to the laundry room. Izumi closed the door behind them and shifted a pile of clean laundry to one side so he could hop up and sit on the counter. “So,” he said, tossing a rumpled sheet at Abe’s head, “besides the fact that the only things you have to bring to the table are your crippling emotional baggage and shitty social skills, why aren’t you going to ask him out? And don’t say because he’s your patient.”

“He was also my student, technically,” Abe said, starting to fold the sheet out of habit.

Izumi waved it off, “He slept through every class, and you were just the TA. Doesn’t count. Try again.”

“He was just kidnapped, forcibly turned into a werewolf, and held prisoner for a couple months?” Abe set the folded sheet on the counter next to Izumi, and Izumi dropped a towel on his head.

“And he spent 48 hours in your presence and didn’t try to kill you. I can’t even do that, and I’m your best friend.”

Abe sighed, “I don’t-”

“Takaya,” Izumi said, his voice suddenly serious, “you’ve had a disgusting crush on this guy for more than a year. Yeah, he’s not going to be in great shape right now, but neither were you when, what was it again? Oh right, when you got turned against your will and forced to stay somewhere you didn’t want to be for an extended period of time.”

Abe bristled, “Not even close to the same thing.”

“No, but you might be able to relate better than the rest of us. At least get his number and invite him out for coffee, just to talk. You’re probably going to fuck it up because he’s, like, the symbol of everything you think Haruna took away from you, and that’s a lot of baggage for someone who _isn’t_ going through a rough patch, but you’re going to regret it if you don’t at least try.”

Abe pulled another towel out of the pile, folding it mechanically, “He’s not a symbol of anything.”

“He would have been your pitcher.”

“Yeah, and I still would have thought he was smokin’ hot and ridiculously talented if I’d met him at practice instead of just watching him from the stands.”

“So fucking _ask him out_ ,” Izumi said, throwing the rest of the pile of laundry at Abe’s head. Abe bunched up the sheets and tossed them into a basket, but Izumi wasn’t done, “He loves baseball, he’s a werewolf, and he likes you. That’s like, the entire full complete list of what you look for in a person.” Abe opened his mouth to object, and Izumi added, “And considering your shared interest in reading material, I think it’s safe to say he’s probably gay, and also at least a little into you.”

Abe froze. That fucking _book_. “You heard that?”

“I hear _everything_ , Taka-chan.”

Abe paused, weighing his options, then said, “I’m going to go throw myself out a window now.”

“Ask him out for coffee, and I won’t tell a soul.”

“Fine,” Abe said. “Once he gets settled.”

“You get his number before he checks out, or I’m telling Shinooka first.”

“You’re a monster.”

“You’ll thank me later,” he said, “once you get a piece of that hot pitcher booty.”

* * *

They ran out of linens to fold before Izumi ran out of snarky things to say to him, but thankfully Izumi’s shift ended before he could drag the conversation about Abe’s love life (both the notable lack thereof and future prospects for) out into the hallway. They split up by the front office, Izumi heading out to the parking lot and Abe making his way back toward the patient wing to wait. Someone had set out a chair for him by the door to Mihashi’s room, and he slumped down into it and leaned his head back against the wall, Izumi’s parting words still ringing in his head.

 _I know you don’t believe in fate, but this seems like a hell of a second chance_.

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, banging his head back against the wall. Crippling emotional baggage, indeed.

* * *

It was another two hours before there was any sign of life from Mihashi’s room. Abe tried to read another chapter of his forestry book, but caught himself reading and rereading the same paragraph over and over again, his brain too full of thoughts to process any new information.

When the door finally opened behind him, he snapped to attention, standing up so fast that his book clattered to the floor. “How is he?” he asked.

Shiga held up a hand, closing the door behind him then gesturing for Abe to follow him down the hall. It was a weird precaution – if he hadn’t been able to hear what was going on inside the room, he doubted Mihashi would be able to hear them talking – but even when Shiga stopped and turned to face him, he kept his voice low, “Physically, Mihashi-san is as healthy as can be expected, considering what he’s been through. He’s undernourished, and has quite a bit of lingering scar tissue that will take time to fade. He’s also still having trouble expressing himself verbally, but his mind is sharp, and he seems, again, at least as emotionally healthy as one could hope for, given the circumstances. He seems to be taking everything in stride.”

“What’s the but?”

“But,” Shiga said, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbing at his eyes, “evidently he was taking some fairly potent anti-anxiety medication before he was turned. Given the length of his captivity, he’s had enough time for the meds to cycle completely out of his system, which means it’s going to be a bit more challenging to pinpoint the changes caused by the virus and find a new dosage that will work for him.”

Lycanthropy had a different impact on everyone, causing subtle changes in physiology that ranged from increased body hair and an improved metabolism to dramatic shifts in brain chemistry. Pretty much any patient on any kind of medication needed to be reassessed after they were infected, and many were taken off their drugs entirely, but it was pretty hit or miss, and with Mihashi, they wouldn’t have a baseline to work from.

“Okay,” Abe said. “So what’s the plan?”

“I managed to get his therapist on the phone. She’s on her way here now, and we’re going to have a sit-down and figure out what to do to keep him healthy.”

Abe glanced back down the hall at Mihashi’s room, “Is he…?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say _a suicide risk_ , but Shiga seemed to understand.

“He’s in good spirits,” he said, “and his doctor indicated that he’s been stable on his medication for as long as he’s been her patient, but she was very concerned that he’d been forced off it on top of everything else. Haruna seems optimistic that the virus is having a positive effect on him, though.”

Abe nodded slowly. “Can I see him?”

“He wants to see you,” Shiga said, chuckling softly. “He was very adamant about that, actually. But I think it should wait until after he’s talked with his therapist.”

“Right, of course,” Abe said, nodding. He breathed out a sigh, running his hand back through his hair, “I assume that means you’re keeping him overnight?” Shiga nodded, and Abe asked, “Have you been able to get ahold of his family? Or find out where he lives?”

“He lives in the dorms at the university – a single, which is why no one noticed he was gone. But that means he has a place to go back to, thankfully. We’ve contacted his mother, but she lives on the other side of the country, so she won’t be able to get out here quickly, and doesn’t have accommodations for him during the full moon, anyway, so I expect he’ll be staying here for a few more days at least.”

“Alright,” he said. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Haruna said that if you’re planning on staying the night, you should take the bed in the next room.”

“I’m fine,” Abe said reflexively.

“He said you would say that, and told me to tell you it isn’t a request. Though for what it’s worth, if you’re alert enough, I believe there’s some inventory work to be done in the lab.”

Inventory. That sounded blissfully monotonous. “Thanks, Shiga.”

Shiga gave him a small nod, then headed out to the front desk to wait for Mihashi’s therapist.

* * *

By midnight, Abe had counted, logged, and sorted everything in the lab that wasn’t bolted to the ground, and his own weariness had started to catch up with him. He snuck into the darkened kitchen and rummaged around in the refrigerator, looking for leftovers. There was a small plastic container of sliced turkey wedged in between what was essentially two buckets worth of soup, and Abe fished it out and ate it in the wan light of the refrigerator, leaned up against the door.

When he heard voices coming from the other end of the hall, he popped the lid back on the container and shoved it back in place. He licked his fingers and wiped his hands on his pants before wandering toward the sound, trying to pinpoint the source. He made it back to the front office just in time to see Shiga escorting a woman out the front door, then closing and locking it behind her.

“What’s the word?” Abe asked.

Shiga jumped, startling and pressing a hand to his chest, “Jesus, Abe, I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Er, sorry,” he said, stepping into the room so Shiga could see him better. Shiga was easy for other humans to sneak up on, to say nothing of a werewolf hovering outside a darkened room.

“You should all have to wear bells,” he muttered. “Shinooka, too.”

“What did Mihashi’s doctor have to say?” Abe asked again.

“Honestly,” he said, “we spent most of the time bringing each other up to speed. She knows her stuff, and has a good relationship with Mihashi-san, but knows very little about werewolf physiology. We all spent a long time weighing the benefits and dangers of overmedicating versus under medicating, assessing Mihashi-san’s state of mind, and talking over the various options with him until we found a solution everyone was happy with. She wrote him a prescription, and I’m going to go have it filled, since we don’t have what he needs on hand.”

“I won’t keep you, then,” Abe said. “Is it alright for me to see him now?”

Shiga nodded. “Haruna should be finished with him soon. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, holding up the prescription sheet as he slipped past Abe and made his way toward the back entrance.

Abe followed him as far as the patient wing, then turned down the hall and headed back toward Mihashi’s room. The door was open again, light spilling out into the darkness of the hall, and he could hear… laughter? He stopped in his tracks and listened, and sure enough, there it was – a delighted, shy little giggle, followed by Haruna’s rich, baritone chuckle. He crept up to the door, hovering just out of view, and listened. “…cool, right? I think if you practice, you’ll be able to do it, too,” Haruna said. Abe frowned. Haruna lowered his voice conspiratorially – more theatric than actually trying not to be overheard – and said, “Just between the two of us, Taka can do it, too, but he hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“What haven’t I figured out yet?” Abe asked, stepping into the light of the room and leaning against the doorframe.

Haruna jerked, genuinely startled, and Abe couldn’t help but smile. Haruna could still kick his ass, but Abe had gotten _good_ at getting the drop on him. “Taka. I didn’t think you were still awake,” Haruna said, covering his mouth lightly with his hand like he was talking with his mouth full.

“I was doing inventory,” he said.

A little flicker of irritation passed over Haruna’s face. “Of course you were,” he said, lowering his hand. “Anyway, we were just discussing some of the perks of our condition, right Ren?”

Abe prickled, but before he could say anything, Mihashi tugged on Haruna’s sleeve, “Will… teach me?”

And Haruna’s smile looked soft and genuine – an expression Abe hadn’t seen on his face in a long time. “Sure, kid,” he said, reaching up and ruffling Mihashi’s hair. “But not tonight. You have a lot of rest to catch up on, and a big day tomorrow.”

Mihashi sobered a little, nodding, but then looked between Haruna and Abe, “Can… talk?”

Haruna laughed, rolling his eyes, “Yes, you can talk to him, but I call first dibs.” He stood up, nodding toward the door, “A word?”

Abe stepped back into the hall and Haruna followed after him, shutting the door behind them. “Taka, I have no idea what you did to convince this kid that you’re a good conversationalist, but you might want to try it on the rest of us once in a while.”

“Very funny,” Abe said. “What did you want to talk about?”

Haruna led him back down the hall and around the corner before he asked, “So how do you two know each other?”

“What?”

“Your name came up when we were talking with Mihashi’s therapist, and she reacted to it. She didn’t say anything, but she looked at him, and he turned bright red. There a history I should know about?”

Abe’s eyes went wide. Mihashi had talked to his therapist about him? “He almost failed the class I TA’d?” he said stupidly. Haruna stopped and looked back at him, unimpressed. “We don’t know each other, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean, we’ve never really spoken before, but… He… We would have been a battery,” Abe said finally, “if I’d played my last year. I didn’t know he knew, and I didn’t recognize him until today.” Now that he said it out loud, though, it made sense, “I think he left the team because of a conflict with the new catcher.”

“Christ,” Haruna said, rubbing his forehead and continuing on down the hall toward his office. “It always manages to be about baseball with you. I swear to god, one day I’m going to pick up a newspaper and the headline is going to read: Man Killed By Stray Baseball. Source Unknown. Authorities Baffled.”

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Abe asked irritably.

“No, sorry,” Haruna said with a sigh, opening the door to his office and gesturing for Abe to follow him inside. He sat down in the big chair behind his desk and swiveled around to face him, “I wanted to get your opinion about what to do with him tomorrow.”

Abe stopped just inside the doorway, pushing the door shut behind him and crossing his arms over his chest, “Okay. Shoot.”

“I was going to invite him to come along with us, but after talking with him, I don’t think it’s a good idea. He reads at least as strongly alpha as you did, and I’m not going to make that mistake twice.” Abe’s shoulders tensed, but if Haruna noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. “I’m thinking of shutting him in with Tajima. Give them the day to get to know each other and let him get used to being around another wolf in a relaxed setting before he has to deal with the power dynamics.”

“He’s not going to like being cooped up in here, but it’s not a bad idea.” He didn’t have anywhere else to go, and it was going to take time for him to find a pack that would take him.

Haruna nodded, “They meshed well when they were together, and Tajima will roll over for anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

Haruna blinked. Tilted his head, “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘they meshed well’?”

Haruna sat up a little straighter, “ _What?_ ”

“I don’t know what that… What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Jesus,” Haruna breathed, horrified, “it wasn’t just me, was it?”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Abe snapped.

“You haven’t touched any of us since you turned,” he marveled. It wasn’t a question. “Not even Kousuke.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Abe said. “Of course I have. You might recall chucking me around the hall last night.”

“No, not…” Haruna stood up, and Abe took an instinctive step backwards, thumping into the door. “Come here,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Fuck you.”

Haruna slammed his hand on his desk, and Abe jerked back again, bumping his elbow on the doorknob, “Goddamnit, Takaya, this is why I won’t let you leave. It’s been more than a year and you still have no idea what the fuck you’re doing. Come take my fucking hand.”

Abe bristled, and before he could stop himself, a little growl trickled out of him.

Haruna drew back and took a deep breath. Even from across the room, Abe could see he was shaking. After a long moment, he said, voice tight but even, “You fell asleep close enough to Mihashi to pick up his scent. What did you feel when you touched him?”

He instinctively rejected Haruna’s words, but before he could spit out an objection, he was hit by a tactile memory. “Sunlight,” he blurted, glancing away as the moment replayed itself behind his eyes, “Tall grass, and rain, and…” his eyes widened in surprise, “his wolf.” It had felt like a dream. He was sure it had been a dream, but… He looked up at Haruna, alarmed, “What does that mean? Why did I…?”

Haruna stepped around his desk and held out his hand. Abe frowned, but reached out tentatively and took it.

But it was just a hand. Just Haruna’s familiar firm grip.

Then Haruna gave his arm a sharp tug, making him stumble forward a step. He wrapped his arm around Abe’s waist, pulling him against his chest, and pressed his cheek against Abe’s, skin against skin.

Abe gasped, filled with the sensation of a still forest in the depth of winter, gray and white, untouched and majestic, impossibly beautiful and distant and so cold it froze the breath in his lungs, for just a second before something sharp and black inside him lashed out at the snowy sky, panicked and angry and afraid, and he ripped out of Haruna’s grasp, falling backwards onto the floor.

“What the fuck was that!” Abe rasped, breathing hard. But he knew. He knew the feel of something powerful moving behind the trees, of reaching for something haughty and pristine and never being able to touch it. He knew Haruna.

Haruna knelt down in front of him, far enough away not to be threatening, “I’ve told you this before, but maybe this time you’ll listen. You think of your wolf as something separate from yourself, something to cage up and control and let out for a walk once a month. But it isn’t something else, it’s _you_. Your primal self, your _true_ self. Being a part of a pack means sharing yourself freely. It means knowing each other, intimately, and it means trust, but you don’t trust anyone, and you never let your guard down. You never let anyone in, and it’s crippling you. As a person, as a wolf, and as a doctor.” He shook his head, “I don’t know how you’ve made it this long without…” He stopped, then said, “I thought it was just me you’d shut out. But since I was obviously wrong, let me bring you up to speed. The rest of us? When we touch a patient, we’re checking in with them, finding out what they’re really feeling, and letting them get to know us. When Tajima was touching Mihashi, they opened up to each other and got along well. They understood each other and trusted each other. That’s why I want to put them together.”

“Why didn’t…?” I know. You tell me. Anyone tell me. But he already knew the answer. He hadn’t wanted to know. Had pushed away and rejected and fought and feared.

Haruna looked down at his hands, his voice going quiet, “I turned you because I wanted to share that with you, Taka. I wanted to _know_ you. But it only made you hate me, and hate yourself.” He folded his hands together and looked up, “I’m sorry.”

Abe sucked in a breath. “What…” He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “What did you see? When you touched me?”

Haruna gave a small, tight shake of his head, “Nothing. I can’t…” He stopped, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye, “Darkness, and pain, for just a second before you shut me out again.”

Abe stilled. Was that who he was? Was that his supposed “true self”? A void of hurt and anger?

Haruna pushed to his feet, retreating back behind the desk. Like he could read Abe’s thoughts, he said, “I’m the wrong person to ask, Taka. All I can feel is how much you hate me. If you really want to know, you should ask Mihashi.”

Abe pushed himself to his feet but hesitated, unsure what to say or do. After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry.”

“You should go,” Haruna said, shaking his head wearily. “He’s waiting for you.”

* * *

And he was: hands folded in his lap, upright and alert, and as soon as Abe stepped into the room, his face lit up. “You… came back!” Evidently someone had given him a hospital gown to put on at some point, but it was either a little too big or tied poorly, and drooped off one lean shoulder.

Abe breathed a tired laugh, “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“H-haruna-san said… you should… sleep?”

“He said you should sleep, too,” Abe said, sitting down on the edge of Mihashi’s bed.

Mihashi gave a quick, small shake of his head, “Not tired.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” he said dryly. “I brought you something.”

Mihashi tilted his head, and Abe produced the romance novel from behind his back and handed it to him. Mihashi took it, flushing and dropping his eyes, but he looked pleased.

“It’s Shinooka’s, so I’ll have to give it back eventually, but I figure it’s better than nothing if you’re stuck in here and bored.”

“Thank you,” he said, soft and shy.

Abe looked down at his hand, picking absently at one of his fingernails. He needed to address the elephant in the room, get their roundabout acquaintanceship out in the open and talk about it, but he couldn’t think of a way to bring it up that didn’t make his skin crawl with embarrassment. Especially if Mihashi had known who he was through this whole ordeal. Remembering the night before made his stomach turn with guilt all over again, though, and instead of _so why does your therapist know my name?_ , he found himself saying, “I wanted to apologize again for what I put you through last night. I didn’t-”

“Please don’t,” Mihashi said. Abe glanced up at him, surprised. “I… you let me… choose,” he said, his voice slow and careful, like he had to think about each word before his mouth would form it. “It’s not bad. Being a w-wolf, but. I didn’t… choose and. You… let me. I w-wanted… to be… _my_ choice. You listened and. T-took care… of me, when it hurt. I felt. It m-made me _feel_. Safe. Again. So p-please don’t…” he gave a small shake of his head, “Not a mistake.” His eyes flicked back up to Abe, wide and searching, that small crinkle of worry between his brows.

“You’re right,” Abe said softly. “It wasn’t a mistake.” Mihashi let out a small sigh of relief, a little smile tugging at his lips, and Abe said, “Still, I would have spared you the pain if I could have.”

“You w-wanted it to be… you.” Abe’s eyes widened a little in surprise, and Mihashi glanced away. “I could f-feel it. Here,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest.

It was true. He would have traded places with Mihashi in a heartbeat if he could have. That single thought had run circles in his head the entire time Mihashi had been shifting, and somehow Mihashi had heard it, or at least understood it. Touching Haruna had been like glancing at a snapshot, a postcard from somewhere far away or a door hastily opened and closed, but he and Mihashi had stayed touching for much longer. He hadn’t understood what he was feeling, but apparently Mihashi had. “What,” he started, then hesitated, shaking his head. “God, this feels so weird to ask, but…” _who am I?_ “what else did you feel? I mean, what-” _who am I?_ “Can you explain…” _who am I?_ “…what you felt?” he said, mirroring Mihashi’s gesture and pressing his hand to his chest.

Mihashi tilted his head, listening to Abe struggle to explain himself until suddenly he understood, “It was like… night time.”

“Like… darkness?” Abe said, feeling something inside him start to crumble.

But Mihashi shook his head and said, quickly and firmly, “No.” His face crinkled in thought, and a moment later, he said, “Like summer. At night. W-when it’s cool, but… feels good. And the sky is bright. F-f-full of… stars and. Fireflies.”

“That… that’s what you felt, earlier? I mean that’s…” _me?_ “…what I feel like, to you?”

Mihashi gave a small nod, “Tajima-san is like. Sand. And. Haruna-san is. Snow, but. You…” he pressed his hand over his mouth, doing a terrible job of hiding his smile, his cheeks going pink, “…like soft, cool grass.”

And Abe blushed, because the way Mihashi said it was like a tactile memory, an open field on a summer evening, long grass on bare arms and legs, each blade a gentle, teasing shiver against the skin, familiar and impossibly sensual. “You’re just like that,” Abe said, voice soft and awed, “but during the day, when the sun is shining, and everything is bright and golden and warm. Can I…?” He reached out tentatively, hesitating, but Mihashi met him half way and took his hand.

For a moment it was just a hand, just a touch, but he looked up and met Mihashi’s eyes, and as soon as he thought it – as soon as he let himself want to know and be known – he felt the golden whisper of Mihasahi dance through his mind like silk. It was like being sprawled out on his back in tall grass, the heat of the sun on his face, breezy and warm but not hot, the most perfect summer day, with the sound of birds and insects in the trees and an unbroken blue sky.

And now that he wasn’t caught in the hazy space between dreaming and waking, what Haruna had been trying to tell him started to make sense. He understood what he was sensing as a landscape, but the fabric and substance of the terrain was entirely Mihashi, his so-called essential self given weight and shape and made tactile. There were layers of sensation, too, parts of what he was experiencing that were thoughts or emotions, fluid and changing, and beneath them there was something solid and more permanent – Mihashi as he truly was, his constant inner self, and Abe wanted to drink every bit of it in. The hope and promise of a beautiful day. The solid weight of earth, constant and persistent, beneath his feet. The looming rumble of a storm on the horizon. The shy brush of grass against his legs. The sweet, honest sound of birdsong.

He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten there, couldn’t remember who had initiated it, but after a few minutes Abe realized that he and Mihashi were holding each other, cheek to cheek, Mihashi’s hands slipped under the hem of Abe’s shirt and Abe’s hands pressed to the thin points of Mihashi’s shoulder blades, seeking skin. Abe felt Mihashi realizing it, too, his embarrassment like the shadow of a cloud passing overhead, but beneath and in between it was a jumble of other emotions – shy pleasure, elation and satisfaction, loneliness and yearning and timid hopefulness.

And suddenly Abe didn’t need to ask what they were to each other, because he realized that Mihashi had clung quietly to their aborted battery the same way he had. Mihashi had been just as curious about him as he’d been about Mihashi; had been watching him for just as long, and had probably known Abe was looking, too. He could feel the weight of it between them, the sense of familiarity and longing and his own dizzy awe their closeness reflected back at him through their touch. It was the realization that Mihashi was probably feeling the exact same things from him that made Abe draw back, but when he did, Mihashi moved with him, pulling away but not disengaging, until they were face to face. It should have been awkward, and embarrassing, but instead it was like they’d both been reaching blindly and their fingertips had finally touched – somehow, improbably, meeting in the middle – a weighty sense of symmetry that held the purest kind of relief. “Why didn’t-” they started in tandem.

“…you ever…”

“t-talk to…me?”

He’d had the chance, more than once. Could have easily tracked Mihashi down and approached him, started up a conversation, but he’d always found a reason to keep his distance – had looked at Mihashi as something that could have been, on the other side of a door he thought had been closed forever, just like Izumi had said. “I… I felt guilty,” Abe admitted finally, looking away. “I was the one who went to the coaches saying we needed to recruit a new pitcher, and you were my top pick. But then before we could even play a single game, or even meet properly, I…”

“W-what… happened?”

“I started working here,” he said, rubbing his hand self consciously over his forearm. Haruna had at least waited until after the season ended, but Abe had planned to spend his first year working at the clinic playing it careful – not just so he could keep playing, but so he could learn the ropes with a clear head, figure out the boundaries of what he could do as a human, and make himself a better doctor by not immediately relying on an alien set of instincts. But he’d never said it out loud, and Haruna never bothered to ask, so instead he wound up getting kicked off the team, hospitalized, and having to start a new, stressful job with equally new and stressful anger management issues. “Haruna turned me on my first day. I didn’t even see it coming. I thought… I thought I could do both, at least for a while, but I never got the chance to try.” He forced himself to take his hand off the scar, shaking his head, “I watched all your games, though. You’re a brilliant pitcher, and that ass of a catcher was wasting your talent.”

“You yelled…at him.”

Abe went pink, and he ducked his head, “Yeah. I hope it didn’t make things worse. I just… It was my fault you got stuck with him, and you deserved better.”

Mihashi gave a small shake of his head, “I heard. The fight. I-it’s why I took… your class.” He mumbled the last, like he was embarrassed to admit it.

Abe tilted his head, “You took that class because I was the TA?”

“…wanted to… meet you. You…” he looked down, hunching over his lap, red up to his ears, “everyone says… the best catcher. I wanted… to see.”

“Why didn’t you ever talk to me?”

“I t-thought… you were mad… at me.”

“What?”

“You were always looking. And. You looked… mad and, I thought-”

“I thought you were beautiful,” he blurted out before he could think better of it.

Mihashi sucked in a soft breath, eyes going wide, “Me?”

“You,” Abe said. “You were perfect. _Are_ perfect. God, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I knew I’d have to quit playing eventually if I took this job, but I was so, so angry that I didn’t get to catch for you.”

“I can’t play anymore, either,” Mihashi said, his voice soft and sad.

Abe felt Mihashi’s loss like a weight in his own chest. He reached out to take Mihashi’s hand again and asked, “What happened? How did this happen to you?”

Mihashi curled his fingers gently around Abe’s, speaking with his eyes downcast, “I… I got lost. On my b-bicycle, at night. And the tire went f-flat and…” he gave a small shake of his head. “Someone found me. H-haruna-san says I… that it w-won’t hit me. For a while. Because… I was a w-wolf for so long, but.” He gripped Abe’s hand a little tighter. “When they found me I was… a-afraid, I was.” he hesitated, trying to find the right word, “Thinking. No, I- before. I was always. Thinking and w-worrying and. It was… hard? But when I was a w-wolf it… everything was… quiet and. It was bad, but. Awful, and bad, but. Quiet. and simple? Everything… made sense and. I felt… strong and. I know I did… bad things, but Shiga-sensei says n-not my fault and I… just want to be in control, and. I am, now. You let me choose and. I think… I’m glad? I think it’s. Okay, now.”

Abe slid his arms around Mihashi, hugging him gently against his chest and murmuring softly against his scalp, “It’s okay now.”

Mihashi settled against him, hands rested lightly on Abe’s hips. “Feels like… happened to s-someone…else. Not me.”

Abe nodded, “That still happens to me sometimes. Our instincts are so much different in wolf form, it’s almost like being a different person.” He stroked Mihashi’s hair, murmuring thoughtfully, “It starts to blend together eventually, though. You become a little more wolf-like, and your wolf becomes a little more like you.”

“Haruna-san said it m-might… fix me.”

“What?” Abe said, drawing back in alarm.

“No, no, not-” he said, scrambling to take back his words, “not ‘fix’ he didn’t… said it s-suited me. That… m-might not… think too much, anymore? S-said my wolf is… strong.”

“You’re not broken,” Abe said firmly. Mihashi ducked his head, chewing his lip, and Abe reached out and gently touched Mihashi’s chin, making him look up again, “but he’s right, it might help with your anxiety. He made it sound like you’re taking well to it.”

“He said…” his brow creased, “I can do… special things. Like him, like. You.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Like… teeth?”

Abe tilted his head, then remembered walking in on them, the way Haruna had kept his hand covering his mouth, “What about his teeth?”

“He made them… sharp!”

Abe instinctively ran his tongue over his teeth, checking for sharp points, then said, “I don’t understand. Why is that special? It just happens when you get mad.”

Mihashi shook his head, “He said… Only special w-wolves can turn just a… little.” He held up a hand, “Claws, too, but he said… that’s r-really hard and-”

“Like this?” Abe asked, holding up his index finger as he morphed his fingernail into a sharp, hardened point.

“So fast!” Mihashi said, his eyes going wide, “H-haruna-san couldn’t… how?”

Abe looked down at his hand, “I don’t…” he could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks, “is that not normal?” Mihashi shook his head, clearly impressed, and Abe ducked his head and muttered, “I use it to open my mail.” Mihashi laughed, bright and clear, which only made Abe more embarrassed, but he couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Makes a pretty good back scratcher, too,” he said, lengthening the rest of his nails and reaching out to rake them lightly down along Mihashi’s arm.

Mihashi’s breath hitched, a little gasp that was more than just surprise.

Abe stilled, his own breath frozen in his lungs, caught between the impulse to apologize and the desire to do it again. When Mihashi met his eyes, just as still, but with anticipation, Abe raked the points of his claws over the curve of Mihashi’s forearm and trailed them lightly down along the inside of his wrist. This time, Mihashi breathed out a soft, pleasured little, “Oh.”

Then someone knocked on the door.

Abe jerked backwards, retracting his claws and instinctively smoothing down his hair and shirt, like they’d been doing a lot more than just barely touching. Mihashi had thrown himself back in bed and pulled the sheets up to his neck, and looked for all the world like a guilty teenager. Abe ran his tongue over the… shit, slightly pointed tips of his teeth and, okay, that was new. He took a steadying breath, willing his teeth back into their proper size and shape and stood up, crossing the room. He cleared his throat and opened the door.

“Hope I’m not waking anyone,” Shiga said quietly, passing Abe a small paper bag. “Just wanted to make sure he had these if he needed them.”

“Right,” Abe said. “Thanks.”

“Did Haruna get a chance to talk to you about tomorrow?”

Abe nodded, “He caught me on his way out.”

“Right, good. Well, then, I’m going to go home and get some sleep. You two try to get some rest, too,” he said, giving them both a nod before heading back down the hall. Abe waved him off, then closed the door and leaned his head against it, sighing. What was he _thinking_? Mihashi was his _patient_.

“What happens… tomorrow?” Mihashi asked softly.

Abe crossed the room, handing Mihashi the prescription bag before sitting down on the swiveling doctor’s chair. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself back into doctor-mode, “I don’t know how much Haruna told you, but because your wolf is so strong, he’s worried it might be dangerous to put you in a big group right off the bat, so he wants to keep you here overnight.”

“I have to… stay?” he asked, obviously disappointed.

“I know, it sucks. I’m sure all you want to do is get out of here and stretch your legs, but trust me, it’s worse if your instincts get the better of you and you don’t know how to handle it.” Mihashi nodded, clearly not convinced, and Abe added, “You won’t be alone, though. Haruna wants Tajima to stay with you and help you learn the ropes.”

“Tajima-san is… a n-nice person!”

Abe gave a small nod, “Yeah, he is. He’ll look after you.”

Mihashi frowned, “But… why not… you?”

“I’m not…” Abe hesitated. “I’m not very good with new people.” When Mihashi started to object, he said, “I think Haruna thinks I might get defensive with you, or even hurt you.”

Mihashi shook his head and said, adamantly, “No.”

Abe let out a little amused sigh, “I don’t think I would, either, but I… I don’t have a lot of experience being around other wolves, at least not when I’m one, too.” He knew he wouldn’t fight Mihashi; the feeling of his wolf stirring inside him, alert and attentive to Mihashi’s presence, was enough to tell him that. But Mihashi had probably interacted with more wolves during his captivity than Abe had in the entire time he’d been a shifter. He had no idea _what_ he would do if he were locked in a confined space with Mihashi while deprived of his faculties, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to find out. “Tajima’s really good at it, though,” he added lamely.

“But, you…” Mihashi paused, brow furrowing. His voice came out sounding a little forced, “Didn’t it? Last year? After…?” Abe blinked in confusion, and Mihashi let out an irritated huff, closed his eyes, and enunciated carefully, “Hasn’t it been more than a year?”

“I…” Abe dropped his eyes, “Yeah, it has, but I don’t run with a pack.” He reached up and rubbed his throat, “I got in a bad fight with Haruna when I was still just a pup, and I’ve kept to myself ever since. During the full moon, I run on my own land, by myself.” He shook his head, “I’d probably be a pretty shitty mentor anyway, honestly.” Even moreso than he’d realized.

“But if… Haruna-san says, not too many w-wolves? but one is o-okay, and. you have land, then maybe I. Uhm, maybe I can … go with you, instead? T-tomorrow?”

Abe was surprised by how much he liked the thought of that – of running with Mihashi, just the two of them, in his little patch of trees. It sounded wonderful, but, “Haruna won’t allow it. He thinks…” Abe shook his head, “We’re both fighters with dominant tendencies. Even if we…” He stopped, laughing softly at himself, “It’ll sound too dangerous, to him.”

“No,” Mihashi said, soft but firm, taking one of Abe’s hands in both of his, “not dangerous. Let me-”

“If it were up to me, I would,” Abe said, looking his face over slowly. After a moment, he said, “But it’s just one month. Once things go fine with Tajima and Haruna releases you, maybe…” Heat rushed to his face as he realized what a ridiculous solicitation it was. _Hey baby, want to come up to my cabin in the woods, get naked, and run around under the moonlight together?_ “…maybe we could…grab coffee some time? Before the next full moon?”

He winced, groaning inwardly at himself, but Mihashi smiled, wide and mischievous, “Like… a date?”

“Yeah? I mean, only if you want to, I don’t-”

“I do.”

“…really?”

Mihashi nodded, looking so satisfied with himself that…

Abe breathed out a laugh, “You should probably formally fire me as your doctor before I try to kiss you.”

Mihashi touched his fingertips to his lips, smiling wider.

“…yeah, okay, I’m going to go before I breach some rules of ethics,” Abe said, standing up. “We should both get some sleep, but if you’d like, I’ll see if I can scrape together some clothes for you so we can go jogging together in the morning.”

“I’d like that,” Mihashi said. Abe nodded and started to head for the door, but Mihashi reached over and grabbed onto his hand again, stopping him, and said, “Stay.” Abe opened his mouth, starting to object, but as soon as he saw the look on Mihashi’s face, he realized it wasn’t a proposition, or even an idle request. Mihashi glanced down, still holding Abe’s hand, “I don’t…um, I-”

“You don’t want to be alone,” Abe said softly, and Mihashi nodded, not meeting his gaze. “I understand,” he said, looking around the room. If he dragged a chair up alongside the bed, he could maybe lean against the mattress. Or maybe put his feet up on it, so he wouldn’t have to sleep sitting up? Or he could-

Mihashi tugged his hand, looking up at him shyly, “With me?” He scooted over, making space for Abe next to him. When he hesitated, Mihashi said, “Please?”

It wouldn’t be the first time one of the doctors here had spent the night cuddled up with a patient. Hell, it wouldn’t even be the first time he’d spent the night cuddled up with Mihashi, though he hadn’t known it at the time. And if he wanted, desperately, to press his lips to the lean curve of Mihashi’s neck, well, it could wait. The look on his face was so earnest and eager that Abe couldn’t help but say, “Yeah, okay.” He leaned against the pull of Mihashi’s hand, reaching across the room to flip off the lights, then toed out of his shoes before letting Mihashi pull him down into bed.

In the back of his mind, some part of him was telling him this was weird – reminding him that he barely knew Mihashi, that he hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since Haruna, that he needed at least a good solid month to turn this whole bizarre new wolf-touch-thing over in his head before he expected it to be even a little bit okay. And yet, as he slid between the sheets and Mihashi fitted himself into his arms, sliding his palms up along Abe’s back, he felt content down to his core, because he _knew_ Mihashi, more clearly and poignantly than he’d ever known anyone, because holding him against his chest felt like clutching pure, golden sunlight to his skin, and because he’d never, ever wanted anything more.

It was terrifying. It was too fast, too unreal, so sudden and so far outside the scope of his experience that he didn’t know how to make sense of it. The feeling of _knowing_ Mihashi blurred together with all the time he’d spent not actually knowing anything about him but desperately wanting to, creating a sense of kinship and familiarity that he knew wasn’t as real as it felt.

But when Mihashi tipped his head back and pressed a gentle, gentle kiss to Abe’s neck, his calm surety butting against the prickle of Abe’s anxiety like a friendly cat, he couldn’t help but relax against him. Because it was new and scary for both of them, but it felt… right, somehow. He cupped a hand gently against the back of Mihashi’s head and pressed a kiss down into his hair, and Mihashi curled his fingers lazily in the back of Abe’s shirt.

“Did you really come to see all m-my games?” Mihashi asked, his voice soft and the question skin-pricklingly intimate in the dark, with Mihashi’s lips ghosting against his skin.

“Yeah,” Abe breathed, carding his fingers gently through Mihashi’s hair. Maybe it was their closeness, or the confessional quality of the darkness, or the fact that he’d never said the words out loud, but Abe found himself saying, “After Haruna turned me, I was angry all the time, about everything. That was the biggest change, for me, I just… I felt like I was burning up with rage, every second of every day, for a really long time. And after my fight with him, I had the most awful scar on my throat, so it wasn’t like I could try to blend in and pretend that nothing had happened – that I wasn’t a werewolf – and just pick up where I’d left off.” He sighed, letting his fingertips trail down the back of Mihashi’s neck, “I wound up cutting myself off from everything and everyone from before. Especially baseball. I was just so bitter about not being able to play that I swore it off entirely. But Kousuke dragged me out to the season opener anyway, and when I saw you pitch…” He shook his head, pressing his face down into Mihashi’s hair, “I’m sure this sounds stupid, and weird, and, god, probably creepy, but when I saw you pitch, I just thought, _I’m not going to give this up, too_. There was so much that I’d lost, that I felt like I’d had taken from me, but that moment was when I finally started trying to take some of it back. At first, going to the games was just me being defiant, like a big fuck you to Haruna, but… Watching you play, even though I couldn’t… it was what helped me start to, I don’t know…” Enjoy things again, live my life, be myself, move on. “Pick up the pieces, I guess.”

Mihashi was quiet for a moment, but before the silence could stretch into something uncomfortable, he said, “I never played w-with a good catcher.” Abe shifted, trying to look down at him, but Mihashi nuzzled against his chest, keeping his face hidden, “But I didn’t know. I thought… it was me, that I was… no good, but you came and said I w-was ‘the best pitcher.’ That, with me, you would w-win. But when I came, you were gone and. it was… the same. I was bad, and we lost, but. About a m-month after we started playing, the coach said… ‘wish I could’ve seen how you’d play w-with… him.’ And I remembered the way… the sound w-when my throw hit your… mitt, and. I thought. _why him_? Like, why would I be… different, with you. Because it _was_. Different, and. I kept thinking and th-thinking and… watching and. You seemed so strong and smart and I w-wanted to know you but…” He gave a small shake of his head, “Then I heard you f-fighting and saying it was… the catcher’s fault. His _responsibility_ , and I started to think… maybe it w-wasn’t me? That if I could be good with… you it was because _I_ _was_ … good, and I’d never f-felt that before.” He paused, drawing tiny circles on the small of Abe’s back with his fingertips, “It made me better, I think, because I started to think, like… w-what would a good catcher do? and that… made it fun, again, even if we didn’t win.” His voice dropped off to a small murmur, “it m-made me respect myself enough to quit w-when they wouldn’t find a new catcher.”

Abe stayed quiet for a long moment, rubbing small circles against Mihashi’s scalp with his fingertips. It was heavy, realizing how much they’d been caught in each other’s orbit and for how long without ever knowing it, without ever colliding. More than a year of near misses and could-have-beens hung between them, another time and place that would have been so different for both of them, and a reality that had, somehow, brought them together anyway, in this moment. Abe gently brushed Mihashi’s hair back and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, murmuring quietly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“You’re here now,” he said.

“Yeah,” he said, hugging Mihashi a little tighter and nuzzling his nose down into his hair, “I’m here now.”

Mihashi made a soft, satisfied little sound, curling his hands into Abe’s shirt and cuddling close. The warmth of Mihashi’s contentment enveloped Abe like an electric blanket, reminding him how exhausted he was and lulling him into a soft half-drowse. He was almost asleep when Mihashi murmured dreamily, “…and you want to kiss me.”

Abe hummed a soft agreement, because, god, did he ever. “I bet you taste like honeysuckle,” he mumbled.

He could hear the lazy smile on Mihashi’s lips, “I bet you taste like starlight.”

And Abe murmured another wordless agreement, rubbing his cheek down against Mihashi’s hair, because that sounded perfectly reasonable, and the steady rise and fall of Mihashi’s breathing was making it hard to focus on anything else. When Mihashi reached up and started scritching gently at Abe’s scalp, he let out a low, contented groan, melting into Mihashi’s arms, every muscle in his body relaxing and turning soft and pliant.

Somewhere, distant, he heard Mihashi say, “Goodnight Taka.”

And he smiled and mumbled, “’night Ren,” as sleep pulled him under.

* * *

He slept soundly, and dreamed of summer and sweet lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If at any point you found yourself wondering - wait, did Mihashi intentionally take his time letting his face turn back so Abe wouldn't recognize him? - the answer is yes. Yes he did. Also if you're asking yourself, what the hell kind of slow burn fic puts all the mutual pining in the backstory, IT'S THIS KIND ::drops mic::


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An untimely werewolf attack leaves Abe and Haruna with their hands full right before the full moon, and forces a last minute change of plans for Mihashi. In the aftermath, Haruna, Izumi, and Tajima discuss what a shitty werewolf Abe is, and Tajima overshares about his sex life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long to post, everyone! Hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> Also, long long overdue posting of more GORGEOUS FANART: [here](http://affectionatetea.tumblr.com/post/135513352241), [here](http://claraenced.tumblr.com/post/136489079541/so-i-read-second-skin-by-theshannonlewis-and-im), [here](http://muchacha11.tumblr.com/post/135768296277/ah-finally-posting-these-after-frantically-drawing), and [here](http://seasaltinecrackers.tumblr.com/post/135091978700/hey-so-theshannonlewis-s-really-good-fic-that-u).

It couldn’t have been more than a few hours later when Abe woke to the buzz of his pager vibrating against his hip. He rolled over on his back, smoothing down his hair and rubbing his eyes before unclipping his pager and lifting it to his face. As soon as he saw the screen, though, he jarred awake, muttering, “Shit.” It was the code for emergency – all hands on deck. Mihashi made a quiet sound of protest, cuddling up a little closer. “Go back to sleep,” Abe said, leaning down and absentmindedly kissing the top of his head, “I’ve got work.”

Mihashi was still too asleep to put up much of an argument. Abe gently wiggled out of his grasp and slid out of the bed, but spared a moment to look at the pouty expression on Mihashi’s face as he searched the warm spot under the covers for Abe and rolled over onto his stomach. Then Abe peeled out of his shirt, changed into the last clean one in the bag Shinooka had packed for him, and slipped out into the hall. At this hour and so close to the full moon, the clinic was running on a skeleton staff, but he ran into Fukami right away. “Oh thank god, you’re still here,” she said, a little breathless.

“What’s going on?”

She shook her head, “I have no idea. I got paged and went to report to Haruna, but when I got to his office, I heard him yelling and throwing things. Something smashed right up against the door, and I was too scared to go in.”

“Shit,” Abe breathed. “That means it’s bad. Get together everyone else that’s here, and start getting the ambulance bay and the operating rooms ready. I’ll go find out what happened.”

She gave a quick nod. “Got it. Thanks, Abe.”

“No problem,” he said, giving her a little wave before jogging toward Haruna’s office. The door was open a crack when he got there, and Abe could hear Haruna arguing with someone on the phone. He knocked and the door inched open a little more, enough for him to see Haruna pacing behind his desk. The whole office was in disarray - books and papers scattered on the floor and his framed degrees hanging askew on the wall. When Haruna caught sight of Abe, though, he waved for him to come inside.

“Are you sure you can’t spare a-” Haruna started, then frowned. Abe couldn’t quite make out the voice of the person on the other end of the line. The clock on the wall above Haruna’s desk said it was just after four in the morning. “I understand,” he said. “Yes, it’s alright, I understand. Thank you anyway.” But it clearly _wasn’t_ alright. He slammed the phone back into the cradle before sweeping the whole thing off his desk, slamming it into the wall. “Fuck!” He shouted, then turned, grabbed onto his chair, and threw it to the floor, “FUCK!!”

Abe stayed still and quiet, motionless in the doorway while Haruna leaned against the wall, steadying his breathing. Eventually, Haruna said, “A lone wolf went rabid a few hours ago. Tore up a big camp site up north. Dozens of people.” He rested his forehead against the wall, sighing, “I sent Momoe and Takii when the first reports came in, but it was already too late by the time they got there.”

“Did they manage to track him?”

Haruna gave a tight nod, “They took care of him. But I guess it was someone Takii knew. Someone he used to run with. He didn’t pull the trigger fast enough, and got torn up really badly.”

“What can I do?”

“Fucking _nothing_ ,” Haruna growled, grabbing a vase off the low bookshelf behind his desk and throwing it against the far wall. “Everyone’s got beds, but no one else has more than one or two humans on staff, and the hospital won’t loan us any doctors because of the contamination risk. In a couple hours, we’re going to have to leave a handful of humans in charge of at least two dozen infected patients. Half the patients are probably going to fucking bleed to death, and all our people will be dead or infected by tomorrow morning.”

It was the worst possible timing. This close to the full moon, most of the shifters in the area would have already left town, and the ones that hadn’t would have to leave in the middle of the day to get out of town and somewhere safe before they started to turn. They would have a handful of trained doctors and a few hours to process more patients than they usually saw in an entire month. “We can do triage,” Abe said after a moment of consideration. “Stabilize as many people as we can before we have to leave. That way we can get our human staff out of harm’s way before the patients start turning.”

“And then what? Leave a bunch of injured people alone all night?”

“Do you see a better option? If we can get them stable, we can lock everyone up separately, whether it looks like they’re going to turn or not. Spread them out between all the clinics, keep a wall between them and our people, and come back for them in the morning. Our doctors can treat the ones that don’t turn, and let the ones who do heal up on their own.”

“I can’t just-”

“I think you’re going to have to,” Abe said tersely. “You said yourself, the other clinics have rooms but no staff. There’s no way we can possibly treat that many people short handed, but we _can_ quarantine them. It goes against protocol, but we could split the work by inducing the ones who are in the worst condition, make them turn as soon as they get here. Taking major surgery off the table will give us a better chance at saving more people.”

Haruna shook his head, “We have to at least try to stop the infection. We can’t just-”

“Let a bunch of people die unnecessarily because we’re understaffed?” he snapped. “I’m not saying everyone, just if they look like they might not make it through surgery, or if it would take longer than we have to stabilize them, let them turn, then spend the time we save not operating doing our best to patch up the rest of the patients. If we can keep most of them from turning, our human staff can keep watch over them overnight.”

“If we divvy our people up, that would be… maybe one or two people per clinic, depending on who we can get to reopen for the night.”

“We’ll be stretched thin, but a pair of people should be able to keep an eye on a couple wolves and a handful of patients. If we get most of the people who are going to turn to do it before we leave, it cuts down on the risk of complications, which means our people might not have to interact with any wolves at all. We can deal with the fallout later. We don’t have to lose anyone tonight.”

Haruna stared at him for a long moment before he started nodding. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I know a couple packs left town early for the holiday, but I might be able to catch some of them before they leave, try to get a few more bodies and some beds for a few hours, see what we can do before the moon rises,” Haruna said, bending down to pick his phone up off the floor and checking it for a dial tone.

“Wait, what holiday?”

“It was Halloween last night, jackass,” Haruna said, starting to dial. “That’s why there were people out in the woods in the first place. A nearly full moon on Samhain, how fucking romantic, what a great time to throw a loud party in the middle of the f- Akimaru, hi, it’s me. I have a favor to ask. Are any of your people still in town? I need the keys to your clinic, and anyone you can spare for the next few hours.” He went quiet for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I’ll stay on the line.” He grabbed a pad of paper and started scribbling down names on it. Once the page was almost full, he tore it in half and handed the bottom part to Abe, tipping the phone away from his mouth, “Can you start calling around? Find anyone with any medical training that’s still in town and beg as many holding cells as you can. I want a full count of what we have to work with as soon as possible. And make sure everyone knows what the plan is before the ambulances start getting here.” Abe took the list from him and nodded, heading back out toward the front office.

* * *

Haruna had been right – most of the numbers Abe called turned up out-of-office messages, rang endlessly, or went straight to voicemail. But after half an hour of phone calls, hasty explanations, and a little gentle bribery, he’d gotten two clinics to pledge six mismatched staff members, four surgical suites, and nine holding cells. Then he called every single person working for Haruna that wasn’t already in the building, coordinated key pickups and skeleton surgical teams, and started rerouting the ambulances.

Shinooka rushed in the front door just as Abe was hanging up the phone, and he immediately stood up and hurried over to her, pulling his keys out of his pocket and pressing them into her hands, “Chiyo, listen, I-”

“What’s going on? I missed the page and my phone is dead.”

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. There was an attack up north, and we have a lot of patients coming in, but before you head back there, I need you to do something for me. In the back corner of my bedroom closet, there’s a big box, and I need you to go get it, right now, and bring it here.”

“Shouldn’t I-?” she said, looking past him at the people bustling through the halls. The first ambulance had gotten there ten minutes ago, and the clinic was already frantic with activity.

“This is more important,” he said.

“What is it? I mean, what’s in the box that’s so-”

“It’s a big fucking box full of slash resistant Kevlar, and I’m not letting you in here until you go get it and put some of it on.” Shinooka drew back, surprised, and he grimaced, “I didn’t plan on becoming a werewolf when I did, remember?”

“Abe…”

“I don’t know if there’s enough in there for everyone, but there should at least be enough for anyone that wants to take the precaution. Chest and arms mostly, and a few leg pieces.”

She pulled him into a tight hug, going up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, but before he could do more than awkwardly pat her on the back, she pulled away and started heading for the door, “I’ll be right back.”

“Can you bring me a couple clean shirts and a pair of pants, too?” Abe called after her. “I don’t want to make the drive up to my parents’ house covered in blood.” She waved back at him as she slipped outside, which was as much confirmation as he needed. He headed back to Haruna’s office.

Haruna was still on the phone. “Look, Icchan, I know it’s not your job, but-”

Abe took the phone from Haruna and sat down on the edge of his desk, passing him the list he’d compiled and holding the phone with his shoulder, “Ichihara? Stop overthinking it and bring us your goddamn keys. It’s what Tai-san would do if he were there, and you know it. And if you don’t, and we’re short on beds, I’m going to personally break your fucking door down to get to yours.”

He handed Haruna the phone back, and a moment later Haruna said, “Great, we’ll see you in ten.”

As soon as he hung up, Abe said, “Momoe and Takii are going to be here in five. Apparently he’s in really bad shape, so I’m going to flip him as soon as they get here and put him in cell one. Momoe’s going to stay until the last minute helping out, then spend the night with him to make sure he pulls through. Is there anything else you need me to do before I head back there?”

Haruna skimmed the notes Abe had handed him, then shook his head, “No, this is perfect. I just need to put in a few more calls to account for the teams I put together and the extra beds, then I’ll come join you.”

Abe nodded and started to leave, but hesitated in the doorway, “What about the girl from the other day? With the defect? Wasn’t she coming back in?”

“Already taken care of. We’re going to drive her up with us and induce the turn as soon as we get there, take her all the way through it, and keep her dosed until we can bring her back safely.”

It was a good plan, especially on short notice. “…and Mihashi? I don’t think we’re going to have a room to spare for him, and if you’re taking the girl with you, you can’t afford to leave Tajima behind.”

“Fuck, I forgot about him. He’s going to have to come with us, too. This is going to be a clusterfuck.”

Abe chewed his lip, considered, then said, “He could come with me.”

Haruna jerked, looking up at him abruptly, “What?”

“He could come with me,” Abe said again. “I have more than enough room for two people to run, and-”

“Are you crazy? You’ll kill each other.”

“We won’t,” Abe said, with the same simple conviction that Mihashi had.

“You’ve probably marked that patch of land within an inch of its life and you want to bring a pup there? A very _alpha_ pup? By yourself? You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“And I won’t learn if I never try,” Abe snapped. “I’m starting to realize how fucking bad I am at this, okay? But it’s not going to change if I keep running away.”

Haruna was silent for a moment before he said, “If you two attack each other out there alone, there won’t be anyone to get you back here before you bleed out.”

“I won’t hurt him.”

“And if he starts trying to get in your face, picking a fight?”

“I won’t hurt him.”

“What if you can’t control your wolf? What if it’s like last time? How can you possibly say for sure that you won’t attack him?”

“Because I didn’t lose control that night, Motoki,” he said quietly. “I’ve never been angrier at anyone in my life than I was at you that night. I _hated_ you that night, long before I started turning, and after I shifted, you felt like even more of a threat. I never meant for it to happen the way it did, but I’d been mad enough to want to hurt you for days.”

It shouldn’t have been surprising, but Haruna looked like Abe had hit him. “What?”

Abe closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh, “That you still don’t understand is why it never could have worked out between us, Motoki. It wasn’t just that you didn’t let me choose this, but that it never even occurred to you that there was a choice for me to make, because you’d already decided for me. If you really want a… _partner_ ,” he said, with the same heavy emphasis that Haruna had the other night, “you’re going to have to stop making all the decisions yourself, and realize that you don’t always know best.” He stopped, shook his head, “I need to go meet Takii’s ambulance. I’m going to take Mihashi with me tonight, because he asked to come, and I want him there. If you have a problem with that, we can talk when this is over.”

Haruna looked at him, features inscrutable, for a along moment before giving a small nod. “Okay. I’ll see you in the OR.”

* * *

Momoe jumped out of the back of the ambulance before it came all the way to a stop, covered in blood and carrying Takii like an unwieldy sack of potatoes. He was unconscious and pale, his torso soaked in blood and wrapped up in duct tape.

“This way,” Abe said, waving Momoe down the hall and into the nearest holding cell. “Get that tape off,” he said, sliding to the floor as Momoe set Takii down in the center of the room. She pulled out a hefty pocket knife and started ripping through the tape without much care for how deep the cuts were going, but as soon as she started tearing it away, Abe saw why: Takii’s whole torso was in ribbons, and the tape had been the only thing keeping his left arm and shoulder attached to the rest of him. She kept going without Abe needing to ask, ripping the knife through the waist of Takii’s pants and underwear and pulling them down and off.

She moved up to Takii’s side, gripping his one good hand while Abe filled the last of four syringes. “I’m not going to lose another partner,” Momoe said through gritted teeth, slapping Takii’s cheeks to try to rouse him. “Come on. Stay with me.” Abe moved in a hasty circle around Takii, injecting him on the right side of his neck, then his right arm, then twice on his left leg.

It was a big, big dose, a combination of drugs designed to induce a turn quickly and accelerate the process, and Takii came around and started screaming as Abe administered the last shot. The change hit him hard and fast, his body jerking and seizing against the floor as his muscles started to tear and his joints dislocated. Momoe grabbed his arms and pinned him down, and Abe leaned his weight on Takii’s ankles, holding him in place as his body twisted and spasmed and started ripping itself apart.

Takii bucked against their restraint, his body arching and rippling, then cracking and practically exploding fur, his screaming cutting off as his vocal cords reknit and his features warped and distorted. Hardly a minute later, there was a big, russet-brown wolf collapsed in a pool of blood the middle of the floor. Takii’s breathing was ragged, and he was barely conscious and delirious with pain. The places where his wounds had been were still visible – the skin fragile and pink and bald – but he was in one piece and no longer bleeding. It was the most they could do for now, and he at least had a better chance of surviving in wolf form than he did as a human.

“What’s his blood type?” Abe asked, pushing to his feet.

“A,” Momoe answered automatically, curling her arms around Takii’s neck and stroking his head gently, soothing him.

“I’ll send someone in to do a transfusion right now.”

Momoe nodded, “I called in some friends. Muscle, if you can use it, but they all want to stay in here with him tonight, help him heal up faster.”

Abe nodded, “Not a problem.” He started to head for the door, then hesitated, “Any of them happen to have a vehicle with a siren on it? If we cut it close here, I think Haruna’s going to need an escort.”

“I’ll ask around. Call me if you need me.”

* * *

Shinooka fell into step behind Abe forty five minutes later, dressed up head to toe in Kevlar and equipped with a hefty clipboard, “I passed out the body armor to the rest of the staff, and called a friend to come in and take what’s left to the humans staffing the other clinics. I left a change of clothes for you in the room with Mihashi-” Abe stopped mid-step at the mention of Mihashi, but Shinooka continued, urging him to keep walking, “who’s still asleep. I brought him something to eat for breakfast and left a note explaining what’s going on and directions for how to get to the kitchen if he’s still hungry. I also asked Izumi to bring him some clothes to change into. Did I miss anything, or should we start making the rounds?”

“Do you _ever_ miss anything?” Abe asked.

“I never considered adding Kevlar to my wardrobe,” Shinooka said, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Thank you, by the way.”

Abe shrugged, “Never hurts to be prepared. Let’s go.”

* * *

There were more critical patients than Abe had expected, even with them split up between all the clinics in the area. On the one hand, it meant that his plan had been a good one – if they’d tried to treat every patient as a human, their skeleton staff would have been overwhelmed. All but a handful of the worst-off patients would have died on the table for lack of experienced surgeons, and a lot of the less injured patients would have been left to fend for themselves. On the other hand, every patient they saved by forcing the turn was one more potential bigot that would wake up in the morning screaming that they would have rather died than be infected, crying negligence despite the obvious crisis.

But the situation was dire enough that Abe didn’t have time to worry about the future fallout. Once the most injured patients had been taken care of – sorted into rooms, turned, and locked up one by one – Abe went from bed to bed hooking up IVs – blood transfusions, antiretroviral drips, and saline bags spiked with colloidal silver – and administering emergency injections for the ones with deeper cuts, topical creams for surface scratches, and a first round of antiretroviral pills for anyone conscious enough to take them. Shinooka stayed by his side the whole time, building patient files from scratch and carefully logging each treatment.

As the morning gave way to afternoon, they started moving all the patients into the holding cells, even the ones that had just gotten grazed; they wouldn’t know if the infection had been stopped until it was too late to make a difference, and it wasn’t worth the risk of leaving anyone in an unsecured room overnight. By two o’clock, they had the last of the patients stable, bedded down, and locked up, and were getting similar reports from the other clinics as the shifters started to vacate the city and head for the woods. Haruna ended his last surgery early when his patient’s incision started healing itself in the middle of the procedure. He and Abe carried the patient to the last holding cell and pumped him full of drugs, then sat with him for the ten minutes it took him to transform from a skinny, blood-smeared redhead into a green-eyed wolf with a scar running across his chest from one shoulder to the opposite hip.

They left together, and Haruna closed and locked the door behind them, then leaned his forehead against the metal and sighed, “Tomorrow’s going to be a nightmare.”

“But we didn’t lose anyone,” Abe said.

Haruna nodded, taking a deep breath and righting himself, “Thanks to you. It would have been a bloodbath if you hadn’t kept your cool.”

“You would have worked something out,” Abe said.

But Haruna shook his head, “I don’t think I would have, this time. I take back what I said about you not stepping up, Taka. You’re a good doctor.” Abe’s eyes went a little wide, and Haruna chuckled, “We make a pretty good team when we aren’t trying to maul each other.”

“When it counts,” Abe said.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Haruna said, holding out a hand. Abe huffed out a dry laugh, reaching out and shaking Haruna’s hand. He felt just a flash – a ghost of an image – of a bright, clear morning and sun shining on fresh snow. It was gone as soon as it came, so quick he might have imagined it, as Haruna let go of his hand. “I’m going to do one last round, make sure everyone knows what they’re doing before we set out. You should go get Mihashi and get changed. I’ll meet you outside.”

* * *

Abe found Mihashi curled up in bed, knees drawn up to his chest, nose buried in Shinooka’s romance novel. Abe knocked on the door as he opened it, and Mihashi looked up, first startled, then pleased, “Everything o-o-okay?”

“Yeah,” Abe said, breathing a tired sigh. “I’m sorry I had to skip our morning jog.”

“Shinooka-san said… but… what? Uhm, what…now? W-will Tajima-san, still…?”

Right, Shinooka wouldn’t have known that part. “No,” Abe said, “Actually, I managed to convince Haruna to let you come with me.”

Mihashi’s face lit up, “R-really?”

“Well,” he admitted, “less convinced and more insisted, but yeah. If you still want to, we can go run together tonight.” Mihashi’s smile was all the answer he needed, and Abe couldn’t help but smile back, an unfamiliar prickle of excitement rushing up his spine. “We need to get going, though,” he said, “or you’re going to wind up turning in the back of my truck.”

“I’m r…eady,” Mihashi said, stepping gingerly out of bed. He was wearing Izumi’s ratty old “Low Power” shirt and a pair of workout pants that pooled around his feet. The slightly too-large clothes only emphasized Mihashi’s thinness, his naturally lean frame worryingly slim. Maybe they could stop and get him a milkshake or something on the way out of town, start him on a high-calorie diet first thing the next morning to get him back up to weight. Abe would have to call his mother on the drive up, have her pick up some extra eggs and bacon on the way home, maybe- “Uhm, w-what…?” Mihashi asked, looking self-consciously down at himself.

“Sorry,” Abe said, realizing he was staring. “I need to wash up. I probably smell terrible.” He’d managed to keep or rinse off most of the blood, but he felt grimy with sweat, like the worst parts of the day had left an invisible film on his skin. He scooped his bag up off the floor and relocated to the bathroom, pulling the door most of the way shut before peeling off his shirt and shucking his pants – which, damn, had big bloodstains on both knees that he hadn’t noticed. “Did you manage to find something to eat for lunch?” Abe called out as he turned on the water in the sink and started splashing water on his face, chest, and arms. He heard Mihashi mumble something, but couldn’t quite make it out. “What?” he called back, hastily scrubbing himself off before rinsing his face, running his hands back through his hair, and turning off the water.

“T-there was, soup!” Mihashi chirped from somewhere on the other side of the door.

Abe snorted, “Yeah, there usually is.” He grabbed a towel and started drying off, “If you’re still hungry, we can stop somewhere on the drive, but it’ll have to be quick.” He fished a clean pair of jeans out of his bag and wiggled into them, then retrieved his belt from his discarded pants and started threading it through his belt loops. “If we weren’t cutting it so close, I’d offer to stop by your dorm to pick you up some clothes, but I don’t think we’ll have time.” He zipped and buttoned his pants and buckled his belt, then leaned out the door, toweling his hair dry, “Did Izumi at least bring you a pair of shoes to-”

Mihashi was staring at him, wide-eyed and a little pink.

Abe blinked, momentarily confused, then glanced down at himself and realized he was still wet and shirtless, baring his scarred chest, and that he probably hadn’t actually closed the door as far as he thought he had. “Oh,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He ducked back into the bathroom, grabbing a shirt out of his bag and tugging it on. “I’ve been working with Tajima too long,” he muttered to himself, swabbing on some deodorant, then hastily repacked his bag and zipped it closed before slinging the strap over his shoulder. “Sorry,” he said again as he stepped out of the bathroom, “occupational hazard. Spend long enough with a built-in fur coat and you sort of start to forget that nudity is a thing.”

“…don’t mind,” Mihashi murmured, looking down at his feet (which, Abe noted, were clad in a pair of slightly-too-big slip-on sandals, which weren’t great given the weather, but were better than nothing).

“We should get going,” Abe said. Mihashi nodded and they headed for the door together, but Mihashi stopped, then dashed back and grabbed something off the little table by his bed before following Abe out into the hall. “All set?” Abe asked. Mihashi nodded, holding up the small paper prescription bag, which Abe noted was still stapled shut.

He frowned, “You aren’t taking them?”

“T-takashima-san says, just in case.”

“Is that your doctor?” he asked, leading Mihashi back through the building toward the entrance.

Mihashi gave a small nod, “She said, phone appointments every day but. Haruna-san explained that I f-feel good, and she… listened.” He glanced up at Abe, “She’s a n-nice person.”

“Shiga said she knows her stuff,” Abe agreed. “Make sure you listen to her. It can take a little while to figure out what your new normal feels like, and how much of an influence the lunar cycles have on you.”

Mihashi tilted his head, “L…unar cycles?”

“Maybe Shiga didn’t mention it,” Abe said. “It’s, well, subtle, usually. Haruna always has a shorter temper for about a day before the full moon, and I always feel… a little aimless, I guess, around the new moon.” He grinned, “And Hanai gets about two days of a shitty mustache before he turns. It took me a while to connect the dots, but if you pay attention you should be able to figure it out. Sakaeguchi gave me a mood journal a few months ago, and at first I thought it was stupid, but it actually helped.”

Abe was surprised to hear voices coming from the end of the hall, and when he and Mihashi rounded the corner, they found Shinooka behind their makeshift nursing station, briefing Ogawa and… what was his name? Umeharo? Umetaro? Since this clinic had the most holding cells of all the ones they’d managed to reopen for the night, they’d won the lotto of having one whole extra person on duty, but Abe was pretty sure that not counting Shinooka, they were both still undergrads. He held up a hand to catch Shinooka’s eye, and once she’d sent the other two into the back, she came over to them. “Good to see you up and about,” she said to Mihashi. He gave a small, shy nod, and Shinooka glanced up at Abe, “I think we’re all set here, so you’re free to go.”

“If you have trouble with any of the wolves tonight, don’t go into their cells yourself. Let out one of the wolves that’s staying with Takii and let them take care of it. They’re all good people, and have good presence of mind. They won’t hurt you, and they all know how to put a pup in its place.”

“They’re Momoe’s friends, right?” Shinooka asked.

Abe nodded, “Yeah, and they all volunteered themselves as free muscle for the night, so use them if you need them.”

“Alright,” she said. “Will do. You take care of yourself out there tonight. And try to play nice with the new kid, huh?”

Abe rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. You too. Be careful.”

“I always am. Now go on, get out of here. I have a clinic to run,” she said with a teasing grin.

Abe laughed, “Don’t let Haruna hear you say that.”

“Uhm,” Mihashi said, drawing both their attention. “T-thank you. For… the book!”

Shinooka’s eyes went wide as Mihashi held the romance novel out to her, cover facing up. “Oh,” she said, taking it from him, “N…no problem. I mean, you’re welcome.” She glanced over at Abe (who was pressing his fingertips to the sudden headache in the center of his forehead), then laughed weakly and said, “I should get to work. Have, ah, fun tonight you two.” She gave them both a small wave, then made an impressively speedy tactical retreat down the hall and around a corner.

“Where were you even hiding that?” Abe griped, rubbing his knuckles against the top of Mihashi’s head. He’d probably grabbed it when he’d run back for his medication, but Abe hadn’t noticed him carrying it. “She’s probably going to be crouched down in a corner hiding her face in her hands for the next hour.”

Mihashi turned to look back at where Shinooka had disappeared around the corner, forehead crinkled with worry, “Did I…?”

“No, it’s fine. She’s just… really easily embarrassed,” Abe said, leading Mihashi back to the front office.

Mihashi frowned, then sighed, “Was a… good book.”

Abe hummed a reluctant agreement, then added, “But Shinooka gets cagey and flustered whenever anyone talks about romance around her.”

“Oh,” Mihashi said quietly. “Is she, uhm, your… girl…friend?”

“ _What!?_ ” Abe said, whirling around to face Mihashi fast enough to make him squeak and draw back. “No, she’s not my girlfriend! Why would you think that?”

“I- um, she- is… I m-mean-”

Abe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, first of all, I wouldn’t have asked you on a date if I were already seeing someone, and second of all, she-” He stopped, shaking his head and scratching his scalp. Where to even start? “I don’t date women, I don’t date colleagues, and I don’t date humans. It sort of puts her out of the running.”

Mihashi looked genuinely surprised, “But, uhm… why?”

Abe blinked. Why _what_? They all seemed like pretty self-explanatory dating rules. “Uh,” he said, “I don’t date women because I’m… not interested in women? And I don’t date colleagues because it’s messy and complicated.”

“No, but… humans?”

“Oh,” Abe said, flushing. “Uh, I don’t… I’m sure Shiga told you this, but, uh… shit.” He rubbed his hand through his hair, puffing out a breath, “Lycanthropy is sexually transmittable. It’s… actually more contagious that way than through a bite or a scratch. I don’t date humans because I wouldn’t ask anyone to take that risk for me.” A slightly too enthusiastic love bite, an accidental scratch, a broken condom, or a momentary lapse in judgment would all be more than enough to be irrevocably life-changing, and for an athlete like Mihashi, career-ending. “It’s the other big reason I never approached you, before,” he admitted.

Mihashi sucked in a surprised breath, cheeks blooming rosy red, “You… w…anted to-”

“I’m on my way now,” Haruna said, pushing through the door into the front office, “We’ll get her situated, then head out in fifteen.” Mihashi and Abe both took an instinctive step back from each other as Haruna pocketed his phone. “Oh, Taka, I’m glad you’re still here,” he said, rummaging around in the insulated medical bag he had slung over his shoulder. He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Abe, “Double check my work?”

The paper was covered in notes, a few figures circled and underlined. Abe skimmed Haruna’s math; it was a cocktail designed to accelerate the shift, just a big enough dose to keep a small female (154cm, 46kg, according to Haruna’s notes) in canine form for about ten hours. For the patient he was taking with him, probably. “Are you going to try to bring her back here before she shifts back, or take her through it at the ranch?”

“At the ranch, first thing in the morning.”

“You have a pen?” Haruna fished one out of his pocket and handed it to him, and Abe stepped over to the front desk, flipping the paper over and running a few numbers. He flipped back to look at Haruna’s math, then scribbled down a few more figures and circled them before handing the paper back. “Your numbers look good, but if you can keep her turned for a full twelve hours, you could adjust the dosage to speed up the process on both ends, get her through the shift a little faster.”

“Smart,” Haruna said, scanning the paper, then folding it in half and tucking it in his back pocket, “Good catch.” He double checked the supplies in his bag, then zipped it shut and said, “Alright, let’s get the hell out of here.” He slung an arm around Mihashi’s shoulders, “You excited to be Taka’s first houseguest?”

“Haruna,” Abe said in a warning tone.

Haruna held up his hands, but didn’t actually let go of Mihashi, “Just checking in, making sure he knows what he’s getting himself into.”

“ _Haruna_.”

“If he gets out of hand,” Haruna said, then leaned in and whispered something in Mihashi’s ear, just low enough that Abe couldn’t hear it.

Mihashi went pink, and Abe ground his teeth, “What did you say?”

“Just letting him know your weaknesses,” Haruna said, smug and cheerful.

“What, ‘Go for the throat’?” Abe snapped.

Haruna’s eyes went wide, and then he started laughing, “Oh my god, Taka. I wish I were half as sinister as you think I am. No.” He ruffled Mihashi’s hair, letting him go and leaning in closer to Abe, lowering his voice, “I told him that you turn to jello whenever anyone touches your ears.” He reached up to do exactly that, but Abe slapped his hand away, blushing furiously. “Come on, let’s go rally the troops,” he said, flashing Abe a big wink and _sauntering_ out the front door.

Abe clenched his jaw, glaring after him and fuming.

Then Mihashi reached up and traced the tip of his nail along the shell of Abe’s ear.

Abe let out a surprised groan, eyes going half lidded and his knees wobbling beneath him. Abe grabbed onto Mihashi’s arm, half to catch himself and half to keep him from doing it again. “Don’t-” he started, but when he caught the flicker of worry in Mihashi’s expression, he let him go and said, “Not _here_. Unless you want to have to carry me to the car.”

“Okay,” Mihashi said, looking way too pleased with himself to be admonished.

Abe reached up and rubbed his ear, chasing away the lingering tingle of Mihashi’s touch, then pushed the front door open and headed outside. The parking lot was full of cars and people standing around looking tense. Everyone who had worked through the afternoon was still there, along with quite a few of the pack members they’d sent off to man the other clinics and a decent number of faces he didn’t recognize. After a minute, he realized why – evidently Momoe had come through and gotten Haruna some kind of police van to use for the night; he was probably going to lead a caravan up into the mountains to shave their driving time. Unfortunately, Haruna’s ranch was in the exact opposite direction from Abe’s cabin, so he and Mihashi were going to have to make the drive without the escort.

“So many…” Mihashi said, looking wide-eyed out at the crowd and edging in closer to Abe.

“Yeah,” he said, scanning the parking lot thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure some of these people are Akimaru’s, though. Er, I mean, they’re part of a different pack, but one with land near Haruna’s. They’re probably just waiting to catch a ride.” He caught sight of Haruna on the other side of the parking lot, leaning in the open door of Hanai’s van and talking to someone inside it. “We should get going before they set out.”

Mihashi nodded, reaching out and putting his hand gently in the crook of Abe’s elbow, “W- uhm, wh-?”

“I’m right over...” Only, when he turned around to look, his truck wasn’t where he’d parked it. “Uh…” Before Abe could start to worry, he heard a sharp whistle coming from farther down in the lot. He went up on his toes to look and found his truck parked way out toward the far end of the building. Izumi was leaned up against it, twirling a key ring on his finger. “Over there, apparently,” he muttered, making his way across the lot with Mihashi close at his side. “Why’d you move my truck?” Abe called out.

“I didn’t, Shinooka did,” Izumi said, once they were close enough that he didn’t have to shout. “She didn’t have room in her car for your big-ass box of body armor so she took yours, and someone nabbed your spot while she was gone. Also, she forgot to give your keys back,” he said, tossing them to him.

“Right. Thanks,” Abe said. “Are you riding with Haruna tonight?”

“Yeah, but a little bird told me you had company, and I had to see it for myself,” he said, leaning to one side to get a better look at Mihashi and holding out his hand. “Izumi Kousuke.”

“M-mihashi… Ren,” he said, taking Izumi’s hand and giving it a timid shake.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Try to be patient with this asshole. He’s not used to having houseguests.”

Mihashi tensed with surprise, then laughed, “Everyone s-says that.” He peeked up at Abe and teased, “Must be _really_ bad.”

Izumi grinned, “I like him already.”

“Aren’t you holding up the caravan?” Abe said dryly.

“Maybe a little,” Izumi said. “Walk with me?”

Abe frowned, but nodded, “Okay. Mihashi, I’ll be right back.”

Once they were reasonably out of earshot, Abe said, “If this is about me getting his phone number-”

“No,” Izumi said, cutting him off, “I just wanted to let you know I heard that there were hunters out about an hour east of you. Rio – one of Tajima’s friends – and his pack usually run up that way, but are rerouting to avoid them. I’m not sure how close your land is to their turf, but I thought I’d give you a heads up that there might be movement in your area.”

“Oh,” he said. “Rio… he’s one of Kawai-san’s right?”

Izumi nodded, “And rumor has it the wolf that went ballistic last night used to be part of that pack.”

“Shit,” Abe said. “Thanks for the warning. I’m more worried about you guys, though. Haruna’s land is really close to where it happened, isn’t it?”

Izumi nodded, “Yeah, but Haruna’s sending us out in force. All of us, and all of Akimaru’s people together. It would take a ballsy fucking hunter to try to take us down when we’re moving as a single pack.”

“Still. Be safe out there tonight.”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, casting a glance back over his shoulder at Mihashi. “Damn, Taka. I never thought I’d see the day.” He flashed Abe a grin, “I really thought I’d be the first one to get a look at your digs.” Despite his smile, Abe couldn’t help but think Izumi sounded disappointed, and he had to fight to hide his surprise. Izumi had never so much as mentioned wanting to come with him, not even as a joke. Then again, he was also the one person that had never pushed Abe about keeping his distance from the pack. About any of it, really. He’d always just… been there. Izumi reached over and slapped his arm lightly, “I’m happy for you. I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah,” Abe said, still a little dazed. When Izumi waved and started heading across the parking lot, though, Abe shook it off and called after him, “Hey, Kousuke.”

Izumi stopped mid step and turned around to face him. Abe held out a hand, and Izumi quirked an eyebrow, “Jeez, it’s not like I’m going off to war or s-” but as soon as he clasped Abe’s hand, he froze, eyes going wide as he glanced from their joined palms up to Abe’s eyes. “Fuck me sideways,” he breathed, then abruptly pulled Abe into a hug, rubbing his cheek against Abe’s and pressing his face into his neck.

Abe went rigid for a moment before putting his arms around Izumi, one hand at the back of his head, as his senses filled with the crunch of dry leaves and the distant smell of wood smoke, foggy breath on the air and the last lingering light and long shadows of a cool autumn evening. His friend, who he knew, but who he had never really known. Who he understood more clearly in this moment than he had in the entire time they’d known each other.

“Nice to finally meet you, asshole,” Izumi said.

Abe sucked in a soft breath, hugging him tighter, “I didn’t-”

“I know,” Izumi said, rubbing his face against Abe’s neck, “I get it now.”

And he realized it was true, could feel Izumi’s delight like the heat from a blazing hearth against cold fingertips. “I’m sorry,” Abe said. He hadn’t known what he was doing, hadn’t known what he was missing, hadn’t known how much he was holding back, or what he’d been rejecting, or the cavernous distance he’d put between himself and everyone he knew. “I didn’t know.”

Izumi shook his head, “Do one thing for me, and we’ll call it water under the bridge.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, for once without an ounce of suspicion, because he couldn’t sense any ill intent in his friend.

“Look at Mihashi.”

“What?” he said, so surprised by the request that he did it out of instinct. He found Mihashi leaning against the door of his pickup truck, caught in a ray of late afternoon sunlight and squinting against it, looking vaguely bewildered.

Izumi barked out a laugh, abruptly wrapping an arm around Abe’s neck and whipping him down into a chokehold, rubbing his knuckles against Abe’s scalp. Before he had a chance to fight back, Izumi leaned over him and whispered into his ear, so quiet it was barely audible, “Fireflies. You look at him, and you fill up with fireflies.” Izumi gave Abe a shove and let him go before he had a chance to respond, bouncing up on the balls of his feet as Abe stumbled forward, “Jesus fuck,” Izumi said, drawing back and wiping at his eyes, “you even smell like baseball.”

“I _what_?” Abe said, righting himself.

Izumi let out a choked laugh, “Like a night game. Freshly watered turf grass and wet dirt.” He punched his hand like he was wearing a mitt, “Like old leather.”

Abe started to bite back, to say something snarky about Izumi smelling like a house fire, but he realized suddenly that he didn’t want to – that it didn’t feel right. Instead, he pulled Izumi back into a hug and pressed his forehead to his neck, and this time Izumi let out a dry little laugh, clapping him on the back. “Does this mean you’re going to come run with us finally?”

“Not tonight, but…” he said, realizing for the first time that part of him wanted to, “maybe. If I can figure out how to play nice with Haruna.”

Izumi laughed again, loud and genuine, then ruffled Abe’s hair again, “Maybe I’ll swing by your place next month instead.”

Abe found himself nodding, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Will wonders never cease?” Izumi said, then winked at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll let everyone know you’re just an idiot, not an asshole.” Abe sighed, and Izumi said, suddenly serious, “Stay safe out there tonight.”

“Yeah, you too,” Abe said. “And thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Izumi clapped him on the shoulder and nodded, “Tomorrow.” Then he grinned, “After I tell everyone what a shitty werewolf you are.” Abe closed his eyes and sighed, but he couldn’t help but breathe out a little laugh as Izumi dashed off through the parking lot, whooping and cheering.

“Idiot,” he muttered, not without a touch of fondness, as he turned to walk back to his truck.

Mihashi was waiting for him, now definitely looking confused. “What, uhm… what? happened?”

“Ah,” Abe said, glancing back over his shoulder at Izumi, who had jumped onto Tajima’s back and was riding him around the parking lot. “I realized I owed him an apology.”

Mihashi tilted his head, “What for?”

“For being a shitty werewolf,” he said. “…and kind of a shitty friend.” Mihashi frowned, not comprehending, and Abe shook his head, “I think I missed out on a lot more than I realized, not running with them.”

Before Mihashi could question him any further, a sharp chirp of sirens sounded from across the parking lot, drawing everyone’s attention to Haruna, who was standing on the running board of the police van on the driver’s side, one arm draped casually over the top of the door, the other on the roof of the car, a police radio in his hand. He was grinning like a kid with a new toy. The radio crackled as he held it up to his mouth, “Test, t-” he said, then winced, recoiling from the sound of his own voice coming through the speaker right next to his ear. He frowned at the radio and tossed it back to the car, then stood up a little straighter and held up a hand for quiet.

“You did good work today, everyone,” he said, voice loud enough to carry even without the speaker. “Probably no one else is going to say it, so I will: Thank you. It wasn’t exactly by the book, but we saved a lot of lives today. If you have any complaints about the way we handled things, please direct them to Abe Takaya,” he said, making a sweeping gesture across the parking lot and turning all eyes in Abe’s direction, “It was entirely his idea.” Abe rolled his eyes and flipped Haruna off. “On the other hand, if you’re happy with the results, I’m glad to take credit for my brilliant plan and problem solving skills.”

A little ripple of laughter rumbled through the crowd, and Haruna waited for it to die down before continuing, “Seriously, though, this is a thankless line of work, but you all have my gratitude. Tonight when we run, I want everyone to stick together. After last night, there’s bound to be assholes with guns out on patrol in the woods, and I want to avoid any incidents as much as possible. Also, I know we’re cutting things close, so aim for the ranch, but if you think you aren’t going to make it that far, pull off the road, get your car as well hidden as you can, and head north once you turn. We’ll rendezvous out by the lake around eight o’clock and make sure everyone gets back to their cars and home safe tomorrow morning.” He scanned the people in the parking lot, then flashed a grin. “For now, we’ve got a license to drive,” he said, slapping his hand against the top of the van next to the siren, “so let’s roll!”

Enthusiastic howls rose up through the parking lot. Abe resisted the urge to roll his eyes again and crossed his arms over his chest, staying quiet. At least, until he noticed Mihashi looking anxiously between him (silent) and everyone else (howling), clearly wanting to join in. Abe sighed and cupped his hands to his mouth, letting out a full-throated howl, and Mihashi brightened beside him and immediately added his voice to the call.

The sound died out when Haruna climbed back into the van and started it, and the lights up top started flashing idly. As soon as he left his makeshift stage, everyone loitering in the parking lot sprang to motion, climbing into cars and slamming doors and getting ready to leave. “C’mon,” Abe said to Mihashi, “we should get going, too.”

Mihashi nodded, and Abe unlocked the truck while Mihashi headed around to the passenger’s side. He pulled open the door, then hesitated for a moment and said, “You know, it’s probably not too late for you to go with them, if you want.”

Mihashi looked immediately crestfallen, “Do you…?” He dropped his eyes, “w-want to… go alone?”

“What? No,” Abe said, shaking his head, “No, Mihashi, not at all. I just… everyone warned you off me for a reason.”

“B-because they don’t know.”

“They don’t know what?”

Mihashi looked up, meeting his eyes, “You.”

Abe gaped at him for a moment, frozen by the raw sincerity of Mihashi’s gaze. “I want to run with you tonight,” he said finally, “more than anything.”

A bright, warm smile spread across Mihashi’s face.  “Then… let’s go!” he said, not giving Abe a chance to object before climbing into the truck and buckling himself in.

Abe shook his head and climbed in after him, then started the truck and navigated carefully around the other cars in the lot and out onto the street.

They’d just pulled onto the highway when Mihashi said, “Uhm, w…hat… W-what should I… call you?”

Abe glanced over at him. He was wringing his hands in his lap, eyes downcast. “What do you mean?”

“You never… introduced, and… the team said ‘Abe’ and… T-tajima-san and Haruna-san said, T…taka, but I don’t…”

“Oh,” Abe said. “Yeah, most people just call me Abe, though a few of the guys picked up ‘Taka’ from Haruna. But yeah, either of those are fine, or… My full given name is Takaya, if you didn’t know.”

“Takaya,” Mihashi repeated, soft and reverent, like he liked the taste of it on the tip of his tongue, and _wow_ it had been a long time since _anyone_ had called him that, let alone like _that_. “N…nice to meet you,” he said, reaching over and putting his hand on top of Abe’s on the gearshift, lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah,” Abe said, a little breathless, “You, too.” He squeezed Mihashi’s fingers as he shifted up a gear, driving into the sinking sun with the faint smell of fresh cut grass and wildflowers lingering at the edge of his awareness.

* * *

**Meanwhile** :

“Found him~!” Tajima called in a singsong voice.

Haruna looked up from fiddling with the controls on the dashboard of the van and turned to look out the passenger’s side window. He started to say, _what took you so long_ , but only got as far as _what_ before it turned into, “What the hell are you two _doing?_ ”

“Kousuke popped Taka’s cherry!” Tajima said with a big grin, hiking Izumi up a little higher on his back. Izumi threw his head back and howled triumphantly, pumping his fists in the air.

Haruna raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“He finally let me read him,” Izumi said, scruffing up Tajima’s hair and hopping down off his back. “All this time, I thought he was giving us all the cold shoulder, but he was so fucking bad at it, I’m pretty sure he didn’t even know he could do it before.”

“Wait seriously?” Tajima said, climbing into the passenger’s side of the van. “But that’s like, the first thing you learn after you get turned.”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to be,” Izumi said dryly.

“You never taught him?” Tajima asked, looking to Haruna.

“Hey,” Haruna said, turning to glance back as Izumi climbed into the back seat, “he refused to so much as look at me for the week after I turned him, and then we tried to kill each other. Sort of closed the door on our mentor-mentee relationship.”

“It’s been more than a year, though,” Tajima said.

“Yeah,” Izumi said, pulling the door shut behind him. “I mean, I know things are still tense between you two, but it’s not like Abe’s been giving you the silent treatment all this time. You talk to each other every day.” Tajima buckled his seatbelt, and Izumi leaned into the space between the two front seats, “What gives?”

Haruna sighed, “Honestly, I thought he’d figured it out on his own by now.”

“Seriously?” Izumi said. “ _That’s_ your excuse?”

“Yeah, it is, because I did,” Haruna snapped.

“You’re trying to tell me you really thought that Mr. I’m-going-to-go-sit-outside-by-myself-because-two-people-in-a-room-is-too-many was going to just spontaneously learn how to literally bare his soul to someone?” When Haruna didn’t respond, Izumi clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “He doesn’t know how to open up to people even when he wants to. It felt like he’d jammed his foot in a door just to keep it open long enough to let me peek inside.” Izumi paused, then frowned, “What _else_ didn’t you teach him?”

“I told you, I never got the chance to teach him _anything_ ,” Haruna muttered, starting up the van and pulling out of the lot.

“It’s been more than a _year_ ,” Izumi said.

“And he doesn’t trust a word I say. About anything.”

“Have you ever tried to talk to him?” Tajima asked.

“Or considered asking _us_ to, or even telling us what was going on?” Izumi said, his voice rising with his frustration. “He’s so _lonely_ , Motoki. Way, way more than I realized, or even _he_ realizes. It’s not that he’s cutting himself off from the pack, it’s that he has no idea what it’s even like to have one. He thinks all there is is being hurt, or being alone, and when he let me in, there was this little tiny flicker of hope that maybe that wasn’t true. It’s the most tragic fucking thing I’ve ever felt in another wolf’s head.”

“Did you know?” Tajima asked Haruna, more horrified than accusing.

“Of course he didn’t,” Izumi snapped. “How would he? And none of _us_ knew because we’ve been walking on eggshells around both of them as long as we’ve been here.”

“Wait, hang on,” Tajima said. “How’d Taka figure it out? I mean, if he didn’t know all this time, what changed?”

“Mihashi,” Haruna said simply.

“What?” Tajima asked.

“He…” Haruna started, then shook his head. “Taka and I were talking, and it finally hit me that he really didn’t know, so I showed him. But he only let me because he’d done it accidentally with Mihashi.”

“Seriously?” Izumi said.

Haruna nodded, “I went in to check on them while they were waiting on Mihashi’s ribs and found them curled up in bed together, rubbing cheeks in their sleep.”

“You’re shitting me,” Izumi said.

“No, that makes sense,” Tajima said. “Mihashi’s a natural at it. He was in the middle of the worst shift I’ve ever seen, and he basically invited me in for tea as soon as I laid hands on him. If anyone could get through to Taka, it’s him.”

“I think he did more than get through to him,” Haruna said dryly.

“What do you mean?” Izumi asked.

“You didn’t notice?” Haruna asked. “I don’t think either of them realize it, but they’re already laying claim to each other. When Mihashi was still in his wolf form, he kept scent marking Taka with his cheeks. By the time he finished turning, it was strong enough that even Shinooka noticed.”

“And I could still smell it after he got out of the shower,” Izumi said. “But Abe definitely didn’t realize it.”

“Mm, maybe not, but he got really possessive of Mihashi, too.”

“Wait, how so?” Izumi asked.

Haruna raised his eyebrows, “Kousuke, do you not remember what happened the other night, right before Mihashi started turning?”

“You mean you two fighting like assholes in front of the patients again?”

Haruna sighed. “Why’d we start fighting?”

“Because…” Izumi paused. “I assumed because he thought you were going to mess with Mihashi’s medication, or hurt him somehow.”

“That’s probably what he thinks, too, but even when he’s pissed at me, he knows better than that.” He paused, hands tightening on the steering wheel, “It makes him mad when I stick my nose in his work, but he was more than mad. If you hadn’t been there, he would have attacked me.”

“He was so angry he started to wolf out a little,” Izumi agreed, “but why? What are you getting at?”

“Mihashi spooked when I went inside. He started howling, calling out for him, and Taka came running and ready to fight – I mean, _really_ fight for him.”

“Holy shit,” Tajima said.

“What?” Izumi asked.

“No, that’s-” Tajima leaned closer to Haruna, lowering his voice like it wasn’t just the three of them in the car, “Are you serious?”

“About _what_?” Izumi snapped.

“Getting crazy territorial like that? Around this time of year?” Tajima said. “That’s a mating instinct.”

“Wait, what?”

“Remember last year?” Tajima said, “Around this time, when Azusa started being a real asshole to everyone? Well, more than usual.”

Izumi paused for a moment, considering, then nodded, “Actually, yeah. He kept accusing you of flirting with the patients. More than usual.”

“Yeah, that. Then… in December, right?”

Haruna nodded, “Right before Christmas.”

“In December, when we turned, we had a sick pup to look after, so we were running with the group instead of heading off on our own like we usually do. Motoki got in between us, and Azusa went _ballistic_ , started a _huge_ fight and didn’t calm down until we finally broke off from the rest of the pack.” Tajima crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat, sounding almost wistful, “He didn’t say a word to me the whole drive home, but when we got back to the apartment…”

“Please stop talking,” Izumi said.

A slow grin spread across Tajima’s features, “I swear to god I’ve never gotten fucked like that before in my life.”

“I hate you so much,” Izumi said. After a moment, though, Tajima’s words sunk in and Izumi sucked in a breath, “We need to tell Taka.”

“Tell him what, exactly?” Haruna asked. “‘Hi Taka, you know that big gay crush you have on your patient? Your wolf feels the same way about him, and there’s a 50/50 chance you’re going to fuck in the woods tonight’? I’m sure he’d love that.”

“I’m sure he’d like it a lot less if it happened,” Izumi snapped, “or, Jesus, if his parents found out. They don’t know that he’s gay.”

“His parents know he’s gay,” Haruna said. “He might not have told them, but they know.”

“How do you know?” Tajima asked.

“His mother had some, ah, rather choice words for me conspicuously around the time I started being more than just his mentor.” He shook his head, “She probably knew it before he did, honestly. She’s a lot sharper than he is when it comes to people, though I guess that isn’t really saying much.”

“Okay, so I’m willing to believe that Abe being gay isn’t as big a secret as he thinks it is,” Izumi said, “but how serious are you about him trying to bone Mihashi in his wolf form? Because I’m pretty sure just the thought of that would squick him to death. Is that actually a thing that people actually do?”

“Only perverts and exhibitionists,” Haruna said.

“It was _one time_ ,” Tajima blurted, “and we _thought_ we’d lost you.”

“Oh my god,” Izumi said, putting his face in his hands. “Why did I even ask?”

“Sure, you were out of sight,” Haruna said, “but when you howl like that-”

Izumi groaned, “Pleeease stooooop.”

“Man, it was Azusa’s birthday, we’d both been on call for like a week straight, I had to leave for that conference the morning after, and-”

“And the reflection of the moon on the lake was so _romantic_ ,” Haruna cooed.

“You’re damn right it was.”

Haruna rolled his eyes, glancing back over the seat at Izumi. “I’m pretty sure everyone tries it at least once if they get the chance. But yeah, if you do, _everyone_ in the pack knows it, because sounds carry, and _smells linger_ ,” he said, shooting a pointed look at Tajima at the last.

Tajima threw up his hands, “One time.”

“Okay but like-” Izumi said, then quickly bit down on his curiosity. Tajima turned to look back at him and raised an eyebrow, and Izumi sighed, putting his face in his hands, “How was it?”

“Honestly? A little heavy on the power dynamics for my taste,” Tajima said, and Haruna hummed an absent agreement. “I mean, Azusa and I have been at this whole werewolf thing a long time and generally we don’t get swept up in all the whole hierarchy/dominance stuff anymore, but we both definitely did that night. Especially him,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “He got so carried away he actually marked me up. Bit right through my fur.” He leaned around the seat and tipped his head to one side, pulling down the collar of his shirt to show Izumi the small, mostly-faded puncture wounds on the side of his neck, then the matching set on the other side.

Izumi stared at the marks for a long moment, then shifted in his seat and pulled his phone out of his pocket, “I’m calling Taka.”

“Don’t,” Haruna said.

“Why the hell not? Isn’t that exactly what you were worried about? That they were going to get into a dominance fight? Pretty sure it would be doubly bad if they tried to forcibly mount each other. And if Mihashi gets his teeth anywhere near Taka’s neck-”

“Telling him will only make it worse.”

“Seriously?” Izumi said.

“Yes, seriously,” Haruna snapped.

“You really don’t think this warrants a heads up?”

“No, I don’t. There’s nothing he can do about it anyway, and pointing it out is just going to make him overthink it and get paranoid and defensive, which will make him _more_ likely to freak out and do something stupid.” He shook his head. “Besides, it’s early enough in the season that they probably have a good solid month or two of posturing and flirting to do before they actually get down to it, and Taka is way too careful and way, way too much of a prude to fuck on a first date, animal instincts or no.”

“A _prude_?” Izumi said, incredulous.

“You heard me,” Haruna bit back. “We were… whatever we were for more than six months and I never got past first base.”

Izumi groaned and thumped his head against the back of Haruna’s seat, “Dude, the _only_ reason you two weren’t your own private little sexual revolution was because he was _terrified_ of getting infected before he finished school.” He reached around and flicked Haruna’s ear, “And then you fucking went and bit him anyway, and wonder why he’s got a mad hate-on for you.”

“I didn’t know he felt that strongly about it,” Haruna said, which was mostly true, or at least it had been at the time. The simple fact that Abe was serious about joining his practice had been proof enough that he intended to become a werewolf eventually, to say nothing of the fact that they were dating. As far as he was concerned, Abe had already made his choice; it had never even crossed his mind that Abe might be actively avoiding or putting off getting infected, and he had never said as much, so when Abe had kept him at arm’s length, it had felt personal. He’d spent months worrying over mixed signals, and Abe had stayed reticent and reserved, enigmatic and distant despite his professed devotion. In retrospect, what Izumi had said made sense, but at the time he’d been completely at a loss and desperate to bridge the gap – to understand what was going on in Abe’s head, to know for sure how he really felt. Turning Abe had seemed like the most certain way to find out, and Haruna had managed to convince himself that it was the natural next step in their relationship anyway.

He’d meant for it to be romantic – a celebration their first day working together, of everything Abe had accomplished in such a short time. He had taken Abe into his office and turned the lights low, hoisted him up onto the edge of his desk and kissed him until he was flushed and breathless, kissed each one of his callused fingertips, his palm, the inside of his wrist and up to just below his elbow.

It had only become really, adamantly clear how opposed Abe was to the idea immediately after Haruna had bitten him. There had been no instant rush of understanding, no sudden clarity, just confusion bubbling into fear and anger, and the sharp taste of Abe’s blood on his lips. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the look of horror and shocked betrayal on Abe’s face, the way he’d asked, helpless and hurt, _Why?_

He hadn’t had a single answer that wasn’t damning, and when he’d been too stunned to say anything at all, Abe had shoved him backwards, hard, knocking him to the ground in his haste to get away. By the time Haruna had gotten to his feet and chased after him, Abe had already locked himself in the lab. He’d had to break the lock on the door and wrestle Abe to the ground, just a moment too late to get the fistful of hypodermic needles away from him before he jammed them blindly into his arm around the bite. Had had to pin him to the floor and hold him down while the silver he’d injected himself with started to burn in his blood as the virus took hold of him, slowed to an agonizing crawl by the drugs flooding his system.

“You know Taka doesn’t do anything half way,” Izumi said, pulling Haruna out of his thoughts. “Knowing him, he probably had some grand plan to get his doctorate and elope with you and let you turn him on your wedding night or something.”

Haruna stiffened, “Did he say that?”

Izumi snorted, “No, but if I had a dollar for every time he’s drunk dialed me crying and yelling about you, I’d have a _much_ nicer car.”

Tajima hummed his agreement, “Sometimes he calls me by mistake. Pretty cute that he calls you Kou-chan when he’s being inconsolably gay.”

“I know, right?”

“Seriously, though,” Tajima said. “You should’ve just fucked him. It would’ve made him a better werewolf.”

Haruna grunted noncommittally, but Izumi asked, “What do you mean?”

Tajima shrugged. “Just that you learn a lot about a person when you get turned that way. I mean, _you_ know.”

Izumi arched an eyebrow, “Uh, no I don’t.”

Tajima turned in his seat to look back at him and frowned, “What?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Izumi said.

“Bullshit,” Tajima said. “I’ve seen you naked. There’s not a bite or scratch on you.”

Izumi rolled his eyes, “That’s because I didn’t get bitten or scratched.” He leaned forward in his seat, pressing his tongue against the inside of his upper lip and pointing to a thin white scar on the corner of his mouth, “I got punched in the face.”

Haruna snorted, and Tajima said, “What the hell?”

“I was drunk and talking shit in a bar,” Izumi said. “Turns out I picked the wrong asshole to start a fight with. He was a shifter with a bad temper. Practically caved my head in with his fists, but not before he split his knuckles open and bled all over my face. Taka said the virus probably stuck because I was so fucked up, and that it probably saved my life.”

“Damn,” Tajima said. “I had no idea.”

Izumi shrugged, “You never asked.”

“Sort of an unwritten rule,” Haruna chimed in. “If someone doesn’t have a scar, and doesn’t have a partner, you don’t ask.”

“Okay, seriously, what’s the big deal about getting turned that way?” Izumi asked. “What am I missing here?”

Tajima wrinkled his nose, “You know that’s how I turned Azusa, right?”

“ _I_ didn’t,” Izumi said, looking to Haruna.

“It’s why he’s so cagey about getting undressed in front of anyone but the three of us,” Haruna said.

“Huh?” Izumi asked.

“He doesn’t have a scar, either,” Haruna added.

“Which is so stupid,” Tajima muttered, “because that was the whole point.”

“Okay, hang on,” Izumi said. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Tajima rolled his eyes and sighed, “Okay, so, this was back when we were both still in med school, right? We had different focuses, but the program was so small back then that it was all technically the same department, and we were competing with each other for the top spot, for the fellowship money. I mean, this was back when you asked for funding and, like, the whole board chuckled and patted you on the head and thanked you for the funny joke. So it was the _only_ money either of us were going to get, and we were really neck and neck for it. And, like, I was all-in. I had Momoe bite me the day I joined the program, but Azusa was gun shy about getting turned. I kept shit talking him for it, saying he didn’t deserve the funding because he could still back out and become a regular doctor or whatever, right? And it finally came out that the reason he was still clean was because he was too vain to let himself get permanently marked up. I knew if I fucked him it would turn him without leaving a scar, because Momoe’s condition for turning _me_ was that I keep my dick in my pants, but I didn’t realize…” he shook his head, “Anyway, it turned into this full blown argument and we ended up… basically daring and taunting each other into bed.”

“Of course you did,” Izumi muttered.

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” Tajima snapped. Izumi held up his hands, and Tajima continued, “So like I said, one thing led to another, and… everyone says it’s more contagious sexually, right? But like, I thought that just meant it was more of a sure thing? But, no, it means it happens fast. Like _fast._ ”

“How could you tell?” Izumi asked.

“Because it happened while we were still going at it.”

Izumi quirked an eyebrow in surprise, “You’re kidding.”

“Mm,” Tajima hummed, thoughtful and pensive, “One second it was me and this hot, beefy hunk of man taking our frustration out on each other, and then I blinked and… I was in this ancient forest full of huge, old trees, and it was so still, and peaceful, like it had been there forever, and would be there forever, just cool and alive and… balanced? And I felt it when he felt _me_ , because the sun started shining through these tall, tall trees, just dappled little rays of light on my face, but I could _feel_ it. All five senses, like I was really there. It was probably the closest thing I’ve ever had to a religious experience.”

“Wow,” Izumi said. “That’s… heavy.”

“Yeah, for what was at least 5% a hate fuck? No kidding.” But a little smile tugged at Tajima’s lips, “We wound up splitting the fellowship, and he moved in with me a week later.”

“It’s not like turning someone that way binds them to you, though,” Haruna said. It was an intense experience, especially if you didn’t know it was coming, and an incredibly intimate one, but it couldn’t forge a connection that wasn’t already there, and it didn’t guarantee compatibility; it just let you see your partner more clearly, which wasn’t always such a good thing. “Not more than any other way, at least.”

Tajima shook his head, “No, but it was definitely a Moment, and we really clicked.”

“It was the same for him, then?” Izumi asked.

“Well, not exactly, because it was me instead of him,” Tajima said, then grinned, “But there’s a reason we went to Bora Bora for our honeymoon.”

“Not Yakushima?” Haruna teased.

“You joke, but that’s actually where we went for our last anniversary.”

Izumi laughed, “I still find it hard to believe that someone with such a shitty temper reads so serene.”

“Oh, when he gets mad, he burns,” Tajima said. “Five alarm wildfire when he really gets going, then smolders for _days_ afterwards. But…it’s part of his balance. Forest won’t stay standing if it doesn’t cleanse itself once in a while.”

“God, you two are so gross for each other,” Izumi said.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Tajima said, turning back to Haruna, “all I’m saying is, if you two had gotten a read on each other early on, it probably would have saved you both a lot of suffering.”

It was true, one way or another. Either it would have gotten them on the same page, or made it clear they weren’t ever going to. But not knowing had sort of been the problem all along. Was _still_ the problem, in more ways than one. Haruna was quiet for a moment, then glanced back over his shoulder at Izumi and asked, “What’s he like?”

“Taka?” Haruna nodded, turning resolutely back to watch the road, and Izumi made a thoughtful sound, resting his chin on his hands. “You know how you can feel it when summer’s almost over? Like, it turns just cool enough that you know it’s ending, and it feels better maybe than the whole rest of the summer, because it’s finally stopped being so hot, but it’s bittersweet because in the back of your mind, you’re already thinking about fall and cold weather and endings, even if you’re trying to hold on and enjoy this last, really perfect moment? He’s like that. A late summer evening, right before it gets too cold to stay outside.”

“Like a festival night, after the festival ends,” Haruna mused, remembering the split-second glimpse he’d gotten the last time he’d touched Abe – an inky sky, and the lingering smell of fireworks.

“Mm, yeah,” Izumi said. “Like ‘we just had so much fun, but now it’s over.’” He glanced between Haruna and Tajima, “What about Mihashi? I shook his hand, but I think he was spooked by all the people, and I didn’t get a good read on him.”

“Big open meadow,” Tajima said. “Like the perfect day for a picnic.” Haruna laughed, and Tajima said, “What?”

“Only when Taka’s around.”

“Huh?”

“By himself, he’s a little raincloud. All gray and drizzly, like at the beginning of summer when it can’t quite kick the last dregs of spring. Until you mention Taka, or he walks in the room, and then-” he waved a hand _like magic_ “-the sun comes out.”

“No shit,” Izumi said.

“It’s unreal,” Haruna said. “At first I thought it was just because he was stressed out from Shiga’s debriefing, but I’m pretty sure it’s Taka. Mihashi’s sunlight even _feels_ like him.”

“What do you mean?” Izumi asked.

Haruna shrugged, “You remember a couple months back, when we all finally let Taka talk us into playing baseball with him?”

Tajima laughed, “Yeah. It took him all day, but he finally got a hit off you.”

“He broke a metal bat on that pitch,” Izumi said. “Pretty sure he hit the ball so hard it vaporized. That was, what, May? June?”

Haruna nodded, “Somewhere in there, yeah. It was warm and sunny, but you could still feel spring in the air, so it wasn’t too hot, and Taka was so ridiculously happy when he beat me that he ran out into the outfield and just flopped down in the grass and started laughing.” He glanced back at Izumi, “When he’s around? That’s Mihashi.”

“Damn,” Tajima said. “No wonder they clicked.”

“I think you’re remembering it wrong, though, Motoki,” Izumi said.

“What?”

“That afternoon. He wasn’t happy because he beat you. I mean, obviously, he was happy that he beat you – asshole has a competitive streak a mile long. But he wasn’t _that_ happy because he won. It was because he got to play at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the only game he’s played since you turned him.”

Haruna blinked, “Oh.”

“He gave up on going pro for you,” Izumi said, “but he wanted to play his last year.”

Haruna sighed, “Please, continue to rub in how much of an asshole I am.”

“It’s not that you’re an asshole,” Izumi said, “you just have like, zero empathy where Taka’s concerned. It’s disgusting how much alike you are, and how little you understand each other.”

“Little hard to find any common ground, lately,” Haruna said.

Izumi paused, then said more seriously, “He wouldn’t hate you as much as he does if he didn’t still love you.”

Haruna huffed out a dry laugh, “Yeah, well, I think I missed my window. Especially now.” He laughed again, shaking his head, “A fucking pitcher. Can you even believe?”

“A pitcher?” Tajima asked.

“Mihashi,” Haruna said, “he’s a pitcher.”

“Not just ‘a’ pitcher, _the_ pitcher,” Izumi corrected. “The one that joined his team right after he got kicked off it.”

Tajima’s eyes went wide, “He’s _that_ Mihashi?” Izumi nodded, and Tajima said, “Holy shit. But wait, Abe didn’t know that, did he? I mean, he couldn’t have, right? Not until after he turned back.”

“He said he didn’t,” Haruna said. “And he hadn’t read him, because he didn’t know how to, but he still defended him like a mate.” After a moment, he sighed, shaking it off, “Maybe it was inevitable. We don’t see a lot of wolves of Mihashi’s caliber, and like you said, Taka is lonely. Makes sense for two packless alphas to pair up and strike out on their own.”

“You think he’s going to defect?” Tajima asked.

“I mean, he already has, really. I don’t know a single other packmaster that would let him run on his own like he does, but as he is, he’s not cut out to be around other wolves. I’ve kept him on a long leash hoping he’d come around, but…” He paused, then sighed, “I actually wanted to talk to you guys about something.”

“What’s up?” Tajima asked.

“Even if none of the rest of the patients turn tonight, we’ve already got enough new wolves to make up a small pack all on their own, to say nothing of the pups that came in with Mihashi. I talked to Akimaru and a few other leaders, but over the last year and a half or so, we’ve all started feeling a little tight on territory. Getting this many people all at once is going to be a problem for everyone.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that, too,” Izumi said. “Things are already starting to get a little cozy, and I’m worried about us overhunting the area. But it’s not like we can just send them off on their own.”

“I know. Akimaru and I were looking into buying up some of the land separating our territories, but it would be piecemeal at best, which is dangerous if we try to cross in between. But because of the blight, it would be a lot easier and cheaper to buy land up by Taka’s place. Kawai’s turf is nearby, but they’ve mostly been expanding away from him.”

“Wait,” Tajima said. “What are you saying?”

Haruna sighed, “I’m saying I’m thinking about splitting the pack.”

“What?” Tajima said, incredulous.

“Oh my god, Motoki,” Izumi said, “You’ve been thinking about expanding Taka’s land and sending half the pack over there _without talking to him_?” He shook his head, drawing back, “Every time I start to think you two just have communication problems, it’s like you find whole new and epic ways to make him hate you.”

“It’s not like that,” Haruna said.

“What’s it like, then?” Izumi snapped.

Haruna sighed, “The size of the pack has been on my mind for a while. Taka never factored into it before. But then he came into my office this morning and told me point blank he was taking Mihashi with him tonight, and…” He paused, thinking, then said, “It was the first time he acted like a whole wolf, not like something broken and incomplete. He basically told me everything was all my fault for the millionth time, but this time it felt true. We only ran together once, and it was right after I turned him, and he hated me for it. So of course he attacked me, and of course he wouldn’t attack someone else. But he’d never said it like that before, like it was simple and obvious. Like he wasn’t at least a little bit afraid of himself.” It was also the first time Abe had admitted out loud what Haruna had gradually come to suspect – that he hadn’t actually lost control that night, that he hadn’t been subsumed by his wolf but had simply crossed his own anger with his wolf’s instincts to defend itself. He sighed. “If the supposed problem with his wolf is actually just a problem with me, there’s no reason he has to be alone. I’m not saying I’d ship a bunch of people up there, but if any of you wanted to run with him, and he allowed it, it would take some of the pressure off. And if it worked out, and he had a little more land, I think it would be sustainable. Moreso than trying to bridge two territories and merge with another pack.”

“You really think he has what it takes to lead?” Tajima asked.

Haruna laughed. “I think he’s barely scraping by _without_ having to worry about anyone else. He doesn’t know half of what he needs to to even be considered a decent werewolf, he has shitty people skills, and I’m still not wholly convinced that he won’t get hyper territorial with other wolves. But if he had a mind to challenge me, he would win. He’s stronger than me, and smarter than me, and for the most part he keeps his head under pressure. He’s not a leader, but he could be, and if he and Mihashi really do pair off long term, I don’t know a single pack leader that would be able to stand up to them, not if Mihashi is even half the wolf I think he is.”

After a moment of tense silence, Izumi said, “Taka invited me to go with him next month. I was going to ask permission, but I guess this is my answer. If things go well with Mihashi tonight, I’ll feel him out then. But you have to talk to him, Motoki. Like actually sit down and talk to him, like a reasonable person. Like an equal. This isn’t something you can just hand wave and sweet talk and coerce into happening, not if you ever want to make things right with him.”

“I know,” Haruna said. “It’s going to be a shitshow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Abe and Mihashi finally get to spend some time alone together, I promise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, Abe and Mihashi make it into the mountains, just in time for moonrise. (AKA, the much-awaited wolf form chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, everyone! I thought it was ready to go out the door, but when I went back to do my "final read" I realized it... wasn't. I spent a good chunk of the last few weeks reworking it, but I think it's a much better chapter for it! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also holy crap, hot damn, and *kill bill sirens* do I have a lot of FANTASTIC fanart to share with you this go around: [1](https://twitter.com/plasticcracked/status/698548810557968384), [ 2](http://seasaltinecrackers.tumblr.com/post/139311364365/a-v-important-part-of-the-new-second-skin-chapter), [ 3](http://seasaltinecrackers.tumblr.com/post/139311112580/splitting-up-all-the-second-skin-stuff-i-drew), [ 4](http://384ren.tumblr.com/post/140010100130/maybe-u-didnt-know-this-but-im-weak-for-werewolves), [ 5](http://escl-ert.tumblr.com/post/140124472131/what-was-he-thinking-letting-himself-be-comforted), and the uncannily prophetic [ 6](http://escl-ert.tumblr.com/post/142655172831/after-abe-gets-his-pants-off-mihashi-bites-at) and [ 7](http://escl-ert.tumblr.com/post/140158396561/playfully-acting-out-that-scene-from-the-lion).
> 
> Thank you everyone so much for your support and enthusiasm, it really keeps me going :D Also shoutout to [carriecmoney](http://archiveofourown.org/users/carriecmoney/pseuds/carriecmoney) and mescoa for the beta; I would probably have kept fussing over this for another month without you.

Mihashi only let go of Abe’s hand once they made it into the mountains. As the city gave way to steep hills and tall trees, he started bending and leaning to peer out through the windshield and up out of his window, making soft, awed noises.

“I take it you don’t get out of the city much,” Abe said, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

Mihashi shook his head. “No car, so…” He pressed his fingertips to the window, looking up at the trees that loomed tall over the sides of the road. “W…where I’m from… everything is…flat. Swampy. Not like this.” When they hit the crest of the hill, Mihashi sucked in a soft breath as the rest of the mountain beyond came into view. “Beautiful.”

Abe hummed his agreement. “I really love it up here. I used to go hiking and camping in this area with my dad and my little brother all the time when I was a kid.” He breathed out a soft laugh. “My parents always talked about retiring to a cabin up in the woods, but I don’t think they expected it to happen so soon.”

Mihashi peeked over at him, curious. “W…what do you mean?”

“After… after Haruna and I had our falling out, I knew I couldn’t go back to his ranch, but I still needed a safe place to turn every month. It was either rent a cage in the city, or buy up some land of my own. It was short notice, but my parents pitched in and helped me buy a little chunk of woodlands and we built a house on the property. I guess I didn’t mention it, but they’re actually the ones who live up here.”

“P-parents?”

Abe laughed. “Don’t worry, they’ll be asleep by the time we get back, and they don’t expect a meet-and-greet.”

Mihashi ducked his head. “I s-should… thank them. For letting me, uhm… stay.”

“I mean, you can if you want to,” Abe said. “But if you get within ten feet of my mother, she’s going to sit you down and feed you until you burst. You might be okay with my dad, but these days it’s pretty much 50/50 whether he’s going to rope you into a conversation about baseball or talk your ear off about land management.”

Mihashi blinked. “Land manage…ment?”

“Yeah,” Abe said, leaning forward and peering up out the windshield, then nodding toward one of the hills in the distance. “You see the brown trees up there? The pines that are sort of orangey-red?”

Mihashi leaned forward, following his gaze. After a moment, he said, “They’re pretty.”

“They are,” Abe said, “but they look like that because they’re dying. There’s a bad beetle infestation all throughout this stretch of forest, and it’s… Well, basically  _ everything _ is dying. The soil is starting to erode as the trees fall, which is starting to impact the watershed and…” he shook his head; no reason to bore him with the details. “Anyway, it’s why we managed to get the land as quickly and cheaply as we did. My dad and I have made it sort of a hobby to do what we can to try to keep it from completely going to shit. It’s going to be 30 years before the trees really start to come back, but I figure I’ll still need a place to run then, anyway, so I might as well do what I can now, even if it just feels like a drop in the bucket.”

“T-that’s why… the book?”

“The forestry one, yeah,” Abe said. “It’s not really my field, and it’s definitely not my dad’s, so we’re both still trying to figure out the basics and turn it into something more actionable than ‘plant trees and hope.’”

“You… plant trees?”

Abe nodded. “And cut or clear the dead ones, when my brother is around to help out. But yeah, normally I drive up with as many saplings as I can fit in the back of the truck, scout around while I’m out running, and spend the next day out in the woods with a shovel and a wheelbarrow, digging holes and sticking trees in them. At least when I can take off work.” He sighed, scratching his head. “Pretty soon it’ll be too cold and the ground will be too hard to dig. I’m probably going to spend all winter wandering around the woods with a chainsaw hacking up dead trees and trying to pawn the pieces off as firewood.”

“You work really hard,” Mihashi said quietly.

Abe huffed out a laugh. “Too much, according to most of the people who know me. I’ve been accused of being a workaholic, but,” he shrugged. “There’s always something that needs doing, so I might as well get it done, right?” He sniffed, shaking his head. “Haruna says I’m allergic to fun.”

Mihashi glanced over at him, a mischievous little smile on his lips. “You do have t-terrible taste in books.”

Abe let out a startled laugh. “Just because you think non-fiction is boring doesn’t mean the books are bad.”

Mihashi shot him a skeptical look, and Abe laughed again. “Okay, so maybe I could spend my leisure time a little more leisurely,” he said, glancing over at Mihashi and lowering his voice, “but I don’t hear you complaining about me taking my work home with me.”

Mihashi abruptly went pink and turned to look out his window. After a moment, he said, “Takaya?” Abe turned to face him, surprised, and Mihashi met his eyes and said, “You’re fired.”

Abe looked back out at the road, unable to suppress a small smile. “You sure? I’m a pretty good doctor.”

Mihashi bit his lip and glanced down at his lap, murmuring something quietly. Abe only caught the end of it – _ d out what else you’re good at _ – but it was enough to make him go red.

* * *

His parents’ cabin was only about twenty minutes farther into the mountains, at the end of a long dirt driveway. This far up, there were densely packed trees everywhere, but his family had cleared a wide swath of land far back from the road, built a little cabin out of the lumber, and planted a wide lawn dotted with vegetable planters and flower beds. Abe parked at the edge of the lot. “Just need to make a quick stop here,” he said, climbing out of the truck. “Gotta pick up dinner and our running companion.” He reached back through the window and gave two short, sharp blasts of the truck’s horn.

Almost before the sound died out, a big gray and white husky came barreling out from around the side of the house. Abe jogged across the lawn to meet her, dropping down into a crouch and holding his arms out, and she slammed into him at full speed, knocking him flat on his back in the grass. “Oooh, I missed you too baby,” he cooed, scruffing up his dog’s neck as she licked his face and whined. “I missed you tooooo.” Her whole body was wagging with excitement, and he flipped her over onto her back, rubbing her stomach and leaning down over her to smother her in kisses. “Such a good girl,” he said, nuzzling his face into her fur. “You ready to go for a run tonight?”

As soon as he said it, she popped up to her feet and barked.

“Yeah? You wanna go for a run?”

She barked again.

“Go get your bag,” he said, snapping his fingers and pointing at the house.

She raced off full tilt, and by the time she scrambled up the steps to the porch, Abe’s mother had opened the door to let her inside. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she called, but she was smiling. Abe jogged up the steps and gave her a hug, but she dodged his attempt to kiss her cheek. “Not with dog spit all over your face.”

“Her mouth is perfectly clean, thank you very much,” he said.

“You only think that because you don’t see what she gets into when you aren’t here.”

“Why would you slander my sweet baby girl?”

His mother rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as your father. Go wash up. Your food’s by the sink.”

“Sorry I can’t stay longer,” he said, already slipping past her into the kitchen.

“Better a quick hit and run than having you turn into a big wolf at the dinner table,” she said, following after him and leaning in the doorway. Abe splashed water on his face and scrubbed it clean, then washed his hands and hastily dried off with a dish towel before grabbing the backpack his mother had set out for him. “Honestly, I’m more surprised that you brought someone with you than that you’re running late. You planning on introducing us?”

“I’m sure you’ll see him in the morning,” he said.

“Mm. The guest room is all set up, and I put a pair of Shun’s running shoes and boxers in the puppy pack like you asked.” This time, she tilted her cheek toward him, and he leaned down and kissed it.

“Thanks, mom.”

“Mmhm. See you tomorrow, Taka.”

“Say hi to dad for me,” he said, giving her a wave. His dog was already waiting on the porch for him, sitting patiently with her harness and saddlebags at her feet. “Good girl,” he said, rubbing her head and double checking the bags. He glanced up at Mihashi, who was peering curiously out the window of the truck, then checked the time on his watch before undoing the strap and tucking it in his pocket. “Can you go get a ball?” His dog’s ears perked up and she bolted to her feet, enthusiasm mingling with disbelief at the prospect of both run  _ and  _ ball. “Go on,” he said, nodding toward the side of the house, “Go get one.”

She zoomed off the porch and galloped across the lawn, and Abe started making his way a little more leisurely back to the truck. His dog fell back in at his side before he’d gotten half way across the grass, a baseball in her mouth. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said quietly, “so be good okay?”

When he caught sight of Mihashi, though, looking wide-eyed and a little pale, he immediately said, “Down.” His dog stopped in her tracks and lay down in the grass, and Abe held up a hand, signaling for her to stay as he walked the rest of the way over to the truck. “You okay?” When Mihashi kept staring past him at the dog, he set the backpack and the harness in the bed of the truck, then tapped on Mihashi’s window and motioned for him to roll it down.

Mihashi snapped to attention, lowering the window and looking up at Abe.

“You alright?” he asked again.

“Uhm, I…m not… good… b-big dogs,” he muttered, and, shit, Abe hadn’t even had the foresight to consider that Mihashi might be a little nervous around large canines after everything he had been through. Which was extra bad, because she was their safety net. At that moment, he would have given a lot to have been able to stop time and put in an emergency call to Sakaeguchi, but since that wasn’t an option…

“Give me your hand,” he said, holding his hand up with his palm facing Mihashi.

When their palms touched, Abe’s shoulders tensed. The perfect summer day was clouded over and tempestuous, the grass whipped by wind and shadows marring the open landscape. Abe curled his fingers gently around Mihashi’s, closing his eyes and trying to convey his own calm surety, his confidence and lack of fear. It took a minute to puzzle through it, to form the abstract impressions into understanding, but eventually Abe realized it wasn’t what had happened to Mihashi that was making him react this way, but simply that… “You’re afraid of dogs.”

Mihasahi lowered his head, giving a single small nod.

Abe puffed out a breath. “It’s a  _ really  _ good thing you didn’t go with Haruna.” Everyone always brought their dogs along for the run, and there were a  _ lot _ of dog owners in the pack. Abe glanced back at his dog, considering for a moment, then said, “If she really scares you, I’ll leave her here, but it would be safer for us if she came with. I know I just let her jump all over me, but she’s actually very gentle and very, very well trained. Look.”

He waited until he was sure he had Mihashi’s attention, then cycled through his dog’s commands, gesturing to her with one hand from across the lawn. Sit. Up. Down. Roll over. Play dead. Run left. Run right. Back. Crawl. Then he stepped away from the truck, called her to heel, and held out his forearm and patted it, so she went up on her hind legs and hooked her front paws over his arm, peering curiously at Mihashi, baseball still held in her mouth. “I was thinking if we had time after we ate, you two could play catch, so you can start getting the feeling back in your fingertips.”

“M-my fingertips?”

“You can throw a lot harder and a lot faster now than you could before,” he said. “It’ll take a little practice to get a feel for it and get your control back, but you’ll probably break the sound barrier once you get the hang of it.” He took the ball from his dog’s mouth and lowered her back to the ground, then wiped the ball on his pants and tossed it through the window to Mihashi. “You know, rumor has it we’re less than a year away from an all-shifter pro league.”

Mihashi looked down at the ball in his hand, then over at the dog. “W…what’s her…name?”

“Skoll. At least technically, but everyone just calls her Baby, because she’s a big dopey, whiney baby,” he said the last to her, bending down to scruff up her neck.

“Skoll,” Mihashi repeated. “The… w-wolf who eats the…sun?”

“Yeah, though she hasn’t really earned the name. She mostly just eats kibble and garbage.” He winced and glanced back at the house, then said more quietly, “Don’t tell my mom I said that.” He was actively pretending he didn’t know about her trash eating habit until he could figure out how to get her to stop doing it when he wasn’t there. He rubbed her head absently. “Anyway, I’m surprised you remembered that. I thought you slept through all my classes.”

“Not asleep!” Mihashi said. Abe quirked an eyebrow, and Mihashi wrinkled his nose. “Was… watching.”

“Watching?”

“…you.”

“Me?”

“Your lectures,” he said, shrinking down in his seat. “When you w-weren’t…looking. At me.”

“Oh,” Abe said, and then, as a second realization hit him, “Oh. I was wondering why your essays were so good.”

Mihashi snorted out an abrupt little laugh.

“What? What’s funny?”

“You drew… all over m-my papers.”

Abe blinked. “I what?”

Mihashi grinned. “Doodles. Everywhere.”

His eyes went a little wide. “I did?” When Mihashi nodded, he asked, “What did I draw?”

“Baseballs, mostly,” Mihasahi said, then, more shyly, “and m-my… windup.”

“Oh,” he said, ducking his head to hide the heat creeping into his cheeks. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing. I’m really sorry. I should never be allowed to have a pen in my hand while I’m reading.”

Mihashi shook his head. “Felt good. Like I was… special.”

“You are,” Abe said quietly, before he could think better of it. Then he cleared his throat and looked up. “Anyway, do you want to try to say hi to my baby girl, or should I send her back inside?” Mihashi looked warily down at the dog, and after a moment, Abe added, “She won’t move unless I tell her to. I’ll even hold her. See?” He sat down in the grass next to the dog and wrapped his arms around her neck, leaning his weight on her to keep her in place.

Eventually, Mihashi said, “Okay.” He opened the door to the truck and stepped out carefully.

“Hold out your hand,” Abe said, and Mihashi did, kneeling down in front of the dog and offering her his palm. She sniffed his hand, then looked to Abe before giving it a gentle lick. Mihashi made a surprised little squeak and drew back, and Abe said, “It’s okay. She’s just saying hello.” When Mihashi started gently petting her head, Abe said, “You wouldn’t know it from her size, but she’s still just a puppy.”

“Why… uhm, why ‘safer’ w-with her?”

Abe looked down at his dog, absently rubbing her neck. “The first time I turned out here, we’d just gotten the deed signed and my parents barely had time to dump me at the edge of the property before I started to shift. I’d never even been out in these woods, my sense of direction was awful, and I still wasn’t completely myself in my wolf form. When I woke up the next morning, I had no idea where I was, and wound up wandering around naked and barefoot for about six hours before I got my bearings and found my way back to the road. I knew it would just keep happening if I kept running by myself, and I never,  _ ever _ want to get stuck hiking through the woods with my junk out again, so I adopted this big dumb baby and trained her to wear a little dog-sized backpack. She runs with me every month, so when I turn back, even if I’m nowhere near home, I at least have a satellite phone, a pair of shoes and underwear, a first aid kit, and a little food and water. I have a much better sense of the land now, and a lot better presence of mind as a wolf, but it’s not always easy to time it when you turn back. Just having a reliable GPS makes a big difference if I’m a little off the mark.”

Mihashi was quiet for a long moment, forehead crinkled in thought as he continued to stroke the dog’s head. Eventually, he asked, “She w-won’t bite?”

Abe shook his head. “She’s a big cheeseball. She barks when she’s excited, but she’s harmless.” Mihashi frowned, but before he could say anything, the dog rolled over on her back, showing him her belly. Mihashi startled a little when she moved, and Abe’s eyes went wide because  _ that  _ was new. As far as he knew, she’d never rolled over for anyone but him. “She’s acknowledging you as dominant,” he said quietly, looking over at Mihashi’s face. As part of the pack. Just thinking it sent a trill of butterflies fluttering through his chest. He hadn’t had time to think beyond this moment, beyond making sure Mihashi was safe tonight, hadn’t had a chance to look ahead to the next month, or the month after, or even honestly consider the possibility that maybe, for once, he wouldn’t be alone. “Hold your hand out,” he said, “with your palm facing up, and lift it up.”

Mihashi was clearly bewildered by the request, but did as he was told, and the dog immediately rolled back onto her stomach and sat up. Abe laughed, and Mihashi looked over at him, startled. “What…?”

“Yeah, I think once you learn her signals, she’ll do anything you tell her to. This is the first time I’ve seen her look to someone else when I’m around.” Abe grinned, picking up the baseball from where Mihashi had set it down in the grass and handing it to him. “You should give her a throw. She’ll come running back with the ball, but if you hold your fist up over your head, she’ll stop and won’t move until you tell her to.”

“You sure?”

“Make a little gun sign with your hands, but with your palm facing up.”

“L-like this?” He asked, but as soon as he did it, the dog stood up and bowed down, sticking her butt up and wagging her tail.

“If you want her to stay, just hold up your hand like you’re making a stop sign.”

Mihashi did exactly that, getting up to his feet and looking down at the ball in his hand.

“You want to see how fast you can throw it now, right?”

Mihashi frowned, but nodded.

“So give her a toss. Just try not to throw it at the house, or you might punch right through the wall.”

Mihashi shot him a sour look, “D-don’t tease me.” He glanced back down at the ball. “I know I can’t throw… fast.”

“I’m not teasing you,” Abe said. “You can now.” Mihashi’s shoulders tensed with surprise, and Abe said, “See for yourself.”

Mihashi took a few tentative steps away from Abe, then walked a few more feet until he was well clear of the side of the house. The dog got back to her feet, staying by Abe’s side but watching Mihashi intently. Mihashi took a slow, steadying breath, then wound up, the motion smooth and graceful, and threw.

The ball left his hand like a bullet, almost too fast to see, and hit a tree on the far side of the property hard enough that the sound of it hitting the bark was like the crack of a rifle, startling birds out of the trees.

The dog dashed off across the lawn, and Abe grinned. “Told you.” Mihashi looked down at his hand like someone had replaced it with an alien appendage. “Your throw was a little high, but better than I expected for a first attempt.”

Mihashi turned and looked at Abe like he’d grown a second head. “Wh… how?”

“You don’t just feel stronger now, you  _ are  _ stronger now. Faster, more agile. That’s the real reason there aren’t mixed teams. No human could catch that pitch.”

“…could you?”

Abe considered it for a moment, then nodded. “If I saw it a few more times, and you were confident about your control.” He grinned. “Might set my mitt on fire, though.”

The dog trotted back through the grass and dropped the baseball at Mihashi’s feet. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. “I thought I’d never get to play again.”

“You might not play on a regulation field,” Abe said gently, “but if you ever just want to throw a ball around, I’ll catch for you. My brother has a batting net out back, and it wouldn’t be too hard to get some dirt together to build a mound, too.”

“You’d do that f-for me?”

“For me, too,” he said, “but yeah. In a heartbeat.” Mihashi looked down at the ball in his hand again. Even after just one pitch, it was already looking a little worse for the wear. “Go ahead and throw it again.”

Mihashi nodded thoughtfully, then wound up, fluid and elegant, and threw.

This time, when the ball slammed into the tree, Abe’s mother called from inside the house, “Oh my god, Taka, if you kill a healthy tree with a baseball,  _ we are going to have words! _ ”

“…we should probably get going,” Abe said. Mihashi nodded hastily, heading for the truck, and Abe shouted back over his shoulder, “We were just leaving! Bye mom!” He lowered the tailgate and Skoll did a running jump into the bed of the truck. The ball in her mouth was barely a ball anymore – ripped apart at the stitches with big, ugly gouges in the leather from where it had hit the bark. “Down,” he said, then, “Stay,” as he latched the tailgate and made his way around to the driver’s seat. He slid in next to Mihashi and tossed him the ruined ball. “Gonna need to buy a bucket of balls when we head back home.” Mihashi marveled at the ball, turning it over in his hands. “If Haruna doesn’t need me first thing tomorrow, maybe we can play some catch in the morning before we head back.”

“I’d like that,” Mihashi said.

“Yeah, me too,” Abe said, putting the truck in gear and pulling forward. He followed the little driveway along the edge of the lawn, then around to where it curved into the trees. It was a narrow path, just a little wider than the truck itself, because Abe was the one that had had to build it, but it wound deep into the woods.

“Uhm,” Mihashi said after a moment. “I have a… question.”

“Sure,” Abe said. “What’s up?”

“Shiga-san didn’t say, so, uhm. D-do wolves… hunt?”

“Some do,” Abe said. “I know Haruna and them usually take down a deer or something when they run, but he has a lot more land with a lot more game on it. Skoll and I will sometimes flush out a rabbit, but you need a bigger group to go after anything larger than that, and most of the local wildlife has learned to avoid my territory anyway.” He made a thoughtful sound. “Personally I don’t really enjoy it. I’m all for the thrill of the chase, but if you turn back too soon after a kill, it can make you pretty sick. It’s why I always eat before I go out.”

“Uhm, you said… dinner?”

“Yeah, my mom packed some food for us. In the bag in the back,” he said, gesturing to the bed of the truck.

“Oh,” Mihashi said. “Uhm, t-then what?”

“Well, since you probably don’t want to spend any longer as a wolf than you have to, I was thinking I’d take you out to the edge of the property and show you around, then we can head back to the truck around midnight.” He didn’t mention that that was what he normally did, or that he almost never stayed in his wolf form longer than absolutely necessary; the moon could keep most wolves in its throes for ten or twelve hours, but Abe tended to head back in as soon as its influence started to wane, after about five or six. “That way we can both sleep in a real bed tonight.”

“A bed…?”

“Yeah, I had my mom set up the guest room for you. You’re about the same size as my brother, so you can probably borrow a pair of his pajamas for the night, too.”

“Oh,” Mihashi said. “Right. Th...thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Abe said. “My brother brings friends up here all the time to go hiking or boating on the lake.”

“But you don’t.”

Abe stiffened. Hearing Mihashi say it like that, so simply, drove home just how true it was. It wasn’t just that he didn’t have people over often, but that he’d never invited anyone up to the cabin, period. Not to run with him, not to help build the house, or the road, or clear or plant the trees, or meet his dog. He hadn’t even hired landscapers or construction workers except when he’d really had to. Mihashi was the first and only person outside his immediate family he’d ever welcomed onto his land. “No, I don’t,” he said, “but I’m glad you’re here.”

Before Mihashi could muster a response, the narrow road widened into a larger clearing, the boundaries of the property butting up against the steep edge of a hill that looked down on the highway in the valley below. Abe had spread the small viewpoint with gravel, and his tires crunched against it as he turned sharply, maneuvering the truck around so it was facing toward the road before parking it. “This is us,” he said, taking the keys out of the ignition and tucking them under the sun visor before opening the door and climbing out of the truck.

By the time he made it around to the back, his dog was already on her feet, dancing around with excitement. He rolled his eyes, unlatching the tailgate. “Go on. Sniff your heart out.” She didn’t need to be told twice, and leapt down to the ground and dashed off into the trees. “You hungry?” He asked Mihashi as he climbed out of the truck.

“Ah… little bit,” he said.

Abe hopped up and sat down on the edge of the tailgate, then patted the spot next to him before reaching back and grabbing the bag his mother had packed for them. “It’s noting fancy, since it was sort of short notice,” he said, pulling two paper-wrapped sandwiches out of the bag and passing one to Mihashi as he sat down, “but my mom’s a hell of a cook.” When he looked in the bag, though, he realized that there were also two bags of chips inside, along with plastic baggies full of cookies, pickles, carrot sticks, two bananas, an orange, two bottles of water, and a big metal thermos. “…and extremely thorough,” he added, pulling out the thermos and offering the bag to Mihashi. “Help yourself to whatever you want. She packed enough food for an army.”

Mihashi ate with gusto, and as soon as Abe bit into his sandwich, he realized how hungry he was and how little he’d had to eat that day. They ate together in the companionable silence of a good meal, and between the two of them managed to polish off almost everything Abe’s mother had packed. When he was done eating, Abe unscrewed the cups from the top and bottom of the thermos and set them in between him and Mihashi, then twisted off the lid and sniffed the liquid inside. Coffee. He let out a pleased little groan at the smell of it. “My mother is an angel,” he murmured, filling both cups before putting the lid back on the thermos. “I think there’s probably sugar and creamer in the bag somewhere, if you want it.”

Mihashi gave a small shake of his head. “Black is fine.”

Abe hummed an absent affirmation, holding his cup up to his lips and breathing in the luxurious steam coming off the coffee. It made him feel relaxed and drowsy, the echo of a lazy morning. It was only when he leaned back on one arm, getting comfortable and looking out over the hillside, that it occurred to him how outrageously romantic the setting was. It was where he came every month; he’d turned his car around so he wouldn’t have to do it in the dark, like he always did, which left the tailgate facing the view, so he could gaze out at the vista below while he ate, like he always did. But it was different with someone sitting next to him.

He let his gaze slide over to Mihashi, who was holding his little coffee cup carefully in both hands, transfixed by the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. The waning light bathed him in fiery gold, bringing out the hint of red in his hair and bronzing his milky pale skin. It cast him in light and shadow, gilding the delicate lines of his profile and the soft curve of his lips. “So beautiful,” Mihashi murmured.

“Yeah,” Abe said, voice soft and awed. Mihashi glanced over at him, and there was absolutely no room whatsoever for Abe to pretend like he hadn’t been staring. He laughed and dropped his gaze. “Sorry.”

But Mihashi just reached out and touched his fingertips gently to Abe’s cheek and said again, “Beautiful.” Abe’s breath caught in his throat. Mihashi’s hands were rough and callused, but that tender touch held a whisper of invitation, a subtle pull that drew him in and made him lean closer. He reached up to brush his thumb along the line of Mihashi’s cheekbone, close enough to see the subtle flecks of green in his eyes and the pale gold of his lashes.

Then his dog started barking.

Mihashi startled, jerking back and spilling the last of his coffee. “Oh my god,” Abe said, hastily signaling for his dog to lie down and be quiet, then put his hands on Mihashi’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?”

“F..fine, I’m fine,” he said, a little breathless.

“I’m  _ so _ sorry, I should have left her at the house. She just gets really excited when-” The dog whined, and Abe glanced back over his shoulder at her, only to find her sprawled out on the ground a few feet away from the truck with an entire tree branch clenched between her teeth. “Seriously?”

She perked up, wagging her tail.

“Where did you even  _ find _ that?” He sighed, turning back to Mihashi. “I’m really sorry.”

Mihashi held up a hand, shaking his head and waving it off. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll be right back,” Abe said, hopping down off the back of the truck. He squatted down in front of his dog and said, “You’re an asshole.” The dog whined softly, and Abe pointed at the ground. “Drop it.” She only hesitated a moment before letting go of the massive hunk of wood, and Abe dragged it across the ground and stepped on it, pulling on one of the larger branches and breaking it off. “No more barking, okay?” She sat up, looking hopeful, and he turned and threw the stick as far down along the dirt path as he could.

The dog shot off, racing down the road after it, and Abe closed his eyes and sighed. Well, he’d certainly managed to fuck that up. But what the hell had he been thinking, anyway? It wasn’t going to be long before they started shifting, and the last thing either of them needed was a distraction. It would be Mihashi’s first real turn – his first time outside as a wolf, no less – and Abe… Abe still had no real idea how he was going to react to him once they’d both shifted. He’d been drawn to Mihashi since the first time he’d laid eyes on him, but he’d felt that way about Motoki once, too. 

His dog came barreling back down the path and he took the stick from her and threw it again, trying not to let his thoughts wear on him. Mihashi wasn’t Motoki.

Behind him, Mihashi said, “You, uhm, you have a good arm.”

“Honestly I’m really out of shape,” Abe said, rolling his shoulder absently. “I never thought I’d miss batting practice, but I haven’t had a workout that good since I left the team.”

“You don’t l…ook out of shape.”

Abe let out a little self-deprecating laugh. “My throw’s a lot better than my arm these days,” Abe said, bending down to take the stick from Skoll and throwing it again. “It’s strange how different the correlation between strength and muscle mass is now. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, despite the fact that I can tell I’m starting to go soft without all the weight training.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m still stuck with a catcher’s ass and thighs, though.”

“I noticed,” Mihashi said, but it didn’t sound like a bad thing. Abe glanced back over his shoulder, startled and embarrassed, and found Mihashi draped over the side of the truck bed, chin in his hands, actively, conspicuously noticing his ass and thighs.

A slow smile crawled over Abe’s features, and he started to say something sly, but before he could, he felt a tug in the center of his chest, and he and Mihashi sucked in a breath at the same time.

Mihashi pressed his hand to his heart. “W…what was that?”

“Moonrise,” Abe said, rubbing at his sternum. “We should start getting ready.” He reached into the back of the truck and fished out Skoll’s harness. When she came back with the stick again, he took it from her and tossed it into the truck, then bent down and started strapping the harness onto her torso. He double checked the bags that rested on each of her sides, making sure everything was still there, then zipped them up and clipped the last strap in place. “It’s a little heavier than usual,” he said apologetically, sliding his fingers underneath the straps to make sure they weren’t too tight, “but not too bad, right?” He rubbed her head affectionately, then said, “Alright, go wait for me. I’ll be there soon.” He patted her back, and she trotted off into the trees, tongue lolling out and tail wagging.

“What now?” Mihashi asked, hopping down off the truck.

“The first time you turned, it wasn’t on the full moon, right?” Mihashi shook his head. “Okay. You feel that pull?” he said, gesturing to his chest. Mihashi nodded, and Abe continued, “It’s going to get more intense the closer we get to starting the shift. When it hits, it’s going to feel like you’re turning inside out, like something’s being pulled out of you. It’s going to go a lot faster than it did the first time for you, too. Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes start to finish. Thirty tops. Then we go run around in the woods together.”

Mihashi nodded once, determined. “Okay.”

“We won’t have much warning before it starts,” Abe said, bending down to untie his shoes, “so we should probably start getting undressed.” He pulled off his shoes and socks and tossed them into the back of the truck. By the time he stood up, Mihashi had already started peeling out of his shirt, and Abe turned to face the other direction before he had a chance to let his eyes linger. He took a slow breath, then unzipped his hoodie, shrugged out of it, and tossed it into the bed of the truck. The prickle of anxiety in his gut was growing thorns and starting to catch, making him worry that this was a mistake only now that it was too late to do anything about it. He took another steadying breath and peeled out of his shirt, then wadded it up in his hands and threw it into the truck. He wasn’t going to hurt Mihashi. He wasn’t.

When Mihashi touched his shoulder, he flinched.

“Sorry-” they both said in tandem.

Abe tensed, but Mihashi softened, laying his hand gently on the back of Abe’s shoulder and stroking it slowly with his thumb. “What happened?”

Abe’s whole torso was a mess of half-healed scars, jagged-edged bites and deep gashes. The one Mihashi was touching was particularly bad and particularly recent, a nasty tangle of gouges and teeth marks where a wolf had bitten off most of his shoulder in a panic. He’d spent two days in a drug-induced shift just to keep from losing his arm. His body had the capacity to survive almost any injury, but wounds inflicted by other shifters always healed more slowly, especially when they were really bad. He reached up and gripped his shoulder. “Not all my patients are as gentle as you were.”

Mihashi trailed his fingertips down along Abe’s back, following the almost-healed line of a claw mark that ran from his shoulder down to the small of his back. Abe closed his eyes and shivered. Mihashi thumbed the base of the scar and said. “Turn around. Look at me.”

Abe turned, and looked.

Caught in the last bloody light of sunset, shirtless, with a pair of borrowed pants slid down low on his hips, Mihashi looked every inch the survivor he was. He was thin, so terribly lean, the outline of his ribs visible beneath his skin. His chest was marred with the same messy furrows of scar tissue, the same ugly welts and divots and puncture marks that decorated Abe’s body. But he looked fierce, not fragile. He looked like he had fought, and won, and lived. Like someone who didn’t need to be protected.

Abe reached out and touched his fingertips to a small, circular scar on Mihashi’s chest; it looked like a cigar burn and was one of many, the result of being prodded or maybe even stabbed with a silver rod. And low on his side, just above the jut of his hip, there was a brand burned into his flesh. Abe let his fingertips linger there, gently stroking the roughened scar tissue, and after a long moment he said, “For what it’s worth, they’ll all heal eventually. All of them but this one.” He reached out and touched the one neat scar on Mihashi’s body, the two half moons of teeth marks imprinted on his left bicep.

“All of them…?” Mihashi asked, moving a step closer to him. He reached up and touched Abe’s chin, and Abe tipped his head back obediently.

“Eventually,” he breathed, trying not to shiver, though he felt terrifyingly exposed. The skin on his throat was only a half shade lighter than the rest of him now, so subtle after a year and a half of healing that it was invisible to anyone who didn’t know to look. But Mihashi leaned in and pressed his lips to the exact spot Haruna had ripped out of him. “Mihashi,” he gasped, reaching up to curl his hand in Mihashi’s hair.

“Ren,” Mihashi corrected, pushing Abe backwards until he bumped into the tailgate and sat down on it.

“Ren,” he said, breathless, as Mihashi crawled into his lap, kissing a slow line up along his neck. One of Abe’s hands found its way to Mihashi’s hip, and he rested his weight back on his opposite elbow as Mihashi leaned down over him.

Then Mihashi murmured, soft and intimate, lips ghosting against Abe’s ear, “Takaya,” and Abe felt a rough tug in his chest like an anchor dropping. He grunted and grit his teeth, closing his eyes and fighting the pull, bracing himself and trying to keep from being dragged down.

“Wait,” he said, his voice rough and less human than it had been a moment ago. “There’s no time.” When he opened his eyes, most of the color had drained from the world, his vision gone lupine. Mihashi was silhouetted against the darkening sky above him, one hand braced against Abe’s shoulder, nails digging into his skin; he was clearly fighting it, too. “I don’t want to hurt y- ngh, ah, fuck.” He felt another pull, and he had to fight to refocus the energy – sharp teeth, sharp nails, but not his arms or legs. Not yet. Please, not yet. Not here, not like this.

The arm Mihashi was using to hold himself up started to tremble and then gave out, and he collapsed down against Abe’s chest, nearly knocking him flat on his back. “Fuck,” Abe said again, low and guttural, and wrapped his arms around Mihashi’s waist, gripping him tight and hauling himself up out of the back of the truck. “We need to get undressed,” he said, sliding off the end of the tailgate and dumping them both unceremoniously on the ground, his knees and ankles already too loose to hold them up. “If you don’t you’ll either get stuck in your pants or rip right out of them.”

Mihashi nodded, and that had to be good enough, because Mihashi was in sweatpants, which were easy, but Abe definitely  _ wasn’t _ . He scrambled away from his truck, far enough that he wouldn’t accidentally smack a claw into the tires, then fumbled frantically with his belt, then two buttons and the zipper, then squirmed desperately out of his jeans and underwear just as he felt the muscles in his chest start to tear. “On your hands and knees,” he said as loud and forcefully as he could while scrambling to get into the right position himself, “try to get on your h-ah-” His back arched and last vertebra at the bottom of his neck pulled back through his body, shredding the muscles in his shoulders.

Behind him, Mihashi screamed, but there was nothing Abe could do, because he was just a moment behind him, letting out a strangled, agonized cry as his shoulder blades wrenched out of place and his joints started to dislocate one by one, bones and muscles shifting and tearing and reknitting, fur erupting from every inch of his skin as his body remade itself by force.

Start to finish, it took him seventeen minutes. Normally, he would have stayed still, flat on his stomach on the ground until the pain subsided, but he could still hear Mihashi whimpering, so as soon as he was physically able to, Abe pushed himself to his feet and staggered over to where Mihashi was laying, his proportions still slightly off but rapidly shifting into place. Abe collapsed next to him, dizzy with pain and exhaustion, but when he pressed himself up against Mihashi’s side, it didn’t hurt quite so bad. He leaned in and licked Mihashi’s face gently, nuzzling him and cuddling close, and Mihashi pushed his nose underneath Abe’s snout, tucking his head beneath Abe’s chin and leaning his head against his chest.

* * *

They stayed pressed close together as the sun disappeared behind the mountains and darkness settled over the woods. The moonlight made Mihashi’s golden fur look like pale cream splashed against Abe’s inky black coat, every strand limned silver and shifting with each slow breath. Abe had never been more aware of anything than he was of Mihashi in that moment, the golden echo of  _ something  _ he had felt stirring beneath Mihashi’s skin merging with an answering shadow inside him and flowing between them, mingling their thoughts and settling their bodies into synch.                                                                          

When they heard the jingle of Skoll’s harness as she approached them, they lifted their heads and looked as one, and she fell back a step, curling in on herself defensively and whining. Mihashi made a little rumbling sound of displeasure, but Abe nipped his cheek and licked him, and he quieted.

When Abe stood up, the connection between them turned elastic, stretching between them as he drew away. Even without the bodily contact, he was still hyper-aware of Mihashi’s presence behind him, the rhythms of his body and the color of his thoughts, the brassy thrum of mistrust directed at his dog.

That, at least, was easy enough to remedy. Abe took a step toward Skoll, and as soon as he did, she dropped down on her back, whining softly. He leaned down and closed his jaws around her snout, and she reached up and pressed her paws to his face, touching but not pushing him away, her tail twitching playfully. It was a familiar ritual, a friendly affirmation of their relationship and the order between them, and when he let her go, she stood up and rubbed her cheek against his.

Abe sensed rather than saw it when Mihashi rose up, intensity at his back like bright sunlight. When he started moving toward them, Skoll dropped back onto her back, tucking her tail between her legs and covering her stomach with it, lips drawing away from her teeth. Mihashi let out a low, menacing growl, and Abe took a step back before he could check the instinct. Mihashi moved in between them and leaned down, closing his jaws on Skoll’s snout. After a moment, she tossed her head back and whined, but when she tried to nip back at him, he growled again and closed his teeth on her throat. This time, she stayed still. She didn’t snarl or fight, just whined and pawed at him, her body curled up defensively. He held her down until the point was made, then let her go, took a step back, and turned his attention to Abe.

The human part of Abe panicked. Whatever happened next would establish the hierarchy between them, but as wolves he and Mihashi were almost equal in size and strength. If they felt each other out and neither of them submitted, a little friendly posturing could easily turn into a real fight. And as well matched as they were, if Mihashi decided he wanted to fight, it was going to be a  _ fight _ . Mihashi knew how to control his wolf and was mostly himself in his own head, but his instincts were strong, and his display of dominance with Skoll hadn’t just been for show.

Then Mihashi took a step toward him, and Abe dropped down and rolled onto his back.

It was only when Mihashi bent down over him, gently locking jaws with him and licking his face, that Abe’s thoughts caught up with his instincts, and  _ oh _ . His tail twitched and he leaned up and pressed his paws to Mihashi’s face, licking him and whining softly, because, he realized with inhuman clarity, even if Mihashi wanted a fight, Abe wasn’t going to give him one.

Mihashi lay down next to him, draping one foreleg across Abe’s neck, and started to groom him, licking and nibbling rather than snapping. Abe stayed relaxed and supine, nuzzling Mihashi’s face whenever he came close enough. He would have been content to stay like that all night, but after a few minutes, Mihashi nosed Abe’s ear and licked it. Abe let out a startled chuff, and Mihashi popped up to his feet, grinning at him with his tongue lolling out. Abe barked at him, and Mihashi barked back before dashing into the woods.

As Mihashi ran off, Abe could feel the connection between them drawing thin, stretched into something lean that would break if he didn’t let himself be pulled along with it. He hopped up and barked at Skoll, then started chasing after Mihashi.

The forest was a tapestry of shapes and movement, everything sharp-edged and skeletal but painted over and made vivid with scent – the familiar odors of plants and animals, the musk of his own marks that defined the boundaries of his territory, and the new, summery smell of Mihashi weaving a trail deeper into the woods as he dodged and bounded between the trees.

Abe could feel the bond between them strengthening as he got closer, and when he fell into step at Mihashi’s side, it felt  _ right _ , like the force of two magnets snapping together, two halves of a lock clicking into place. This was where he belonged. This was how it was supposed to be. He could feel it in his bones.

A quarter mile on, Mihashi fell back a step to let him lead, and small though it was, the force at Abe’s back drove him forward, a spearhead cutting through the darkness. He threw his head back and howled, bounding faster through the undergrowth, and two voices rose up behind him, answering his call and urging him on.

He led Mihashi on a winding path through the width and length of his property – zigzagging to show him as much of it as possible, detouring whenever some sight or smell piqued Mihashi’s curiosity and he pulled ahead, retaking the lead. Mihashi found Abe’s favorite tree on his own and slowed to admire it, making unhurried circuits around the massive pine, which had been split by lightning but was still standing, still thriving, though so many of the trees around it had succumb to disease. And Mihashi made a point to stop at every small sapling he found, to circle it and sniff and bark appreciatively before butting his cheek against Abe’s and dashing off into the darkness. They raced through the little creek that wound along the eastern edge of Abe’s property, splashing in the frigid, ankle-deep water, bumping flanks and nipping cheeks, exhilarated because everything was new and free and open and  _ theirs _ . And they ran, really  _ ran _ , pushing the limits of their bodies and each other, elation making their feet light and their hearts pound, hard but steady.

Their run became a dance as they ranged deeper into the woods, the connection between them turning liquid and pliant, a magnetic pull that held strong even when they separated to weave or bank around trees, then crashed over them, stronger than touch, when they fell back into step at each other’s sides. When they ran close enough to brush flanks, the moonlight that silvered every rock and tree turned gold, not sunkissed but gilded and bathed in shadow, making the forest glow with its own unearthly light.

The feeling only intensified as they pressed on and their bodies fell into synch, warm wind and wildflowers in their lungs, cool midnight ink pounding in their veins, until it was impossible to tell where one of them ended and the other began – until it stopped mattering, their bodies moving as one and their thoughts open to one another, senses intermingling and desires merging, not just in synch but in perfect accord.

They recognized it when they came to the edge of their territory, the scenery changing subtly, the smells becoming unfamiliar and their marks less frequent and then non-existent. But they pressed on without hesitating, bound by a silent understanding: they had been alone, but they were together now, and they would need more ground to hunt, more room to run. There was no scent of rivals, and as they pressed farther on there were more traces of prey than on the land they had already claimed. It was good land, and together they were sure they could defend it.

They ranged deep into the forest, far enough to catch the scent of other wolves, but the marks were scattered and old; whatever pack had once claimed this land had either abandoned it or wasn’t large enough to defend it. They were  _ sure _ this land was safe, and eager to explore it, but caution slowed their steps and made them stop to scent the air, vigilant for any sign of life or movement.

There were no other wolves nearby, but they could smell a river somewhere to the north, rushing water and wet rocks and algae carried on the wind, and they were surprised by how exciting that was. They remembered the creek they’d run through as more than the trickle it had been, cool meltwater soaking into their fur, easing the first true heat of summer when the air shimmered with slow-drifting pollen dust, but they had never experienced anything like that, associated the smell of water with pressurized hoses and drab, lifeless slabs of concrete, with the sharp tang of blood and fear that clung to the throat. It made them mad, and sad, and hopeful, and carried them to the river’s edge.

The rippling surface of the water was silvered with moonlight, and as soon as they saw it, they sprinted full tilt toward the riverbank, but stopped just short of plunging in head first, taking slow steps through the mud until the cold water licked their toes. It wasn’t scary; the river was wide and wound lazily around this part of the mountain, the level was low because of the season, and the water was clear and fresh and clean. Besides, they were so  _ hot _ from the distance they’d run. It would be refreshing.

Reluctantly, they took a few more steps into the water, and when it didn’t immediately whisk them away downstream, they dove under the surface and popped up with a huge splash and a happy bark. It was just deep enough to swim here, but they didn’t like not being able to find the bottom with their feet, so they paddled over to a wide curve in the river where the water was shallow and the riverbed was lined with smooth, algae-slick stone. And this,  _ this _ was fun, bounding through chest-deep water, biting at the crystalline droplets that splashed up and caught the moonlight, wrestling until they were hot and breathless, then clamoring out of the water and racing along the riverbank, leaving paw prints in the mud.

They loved the smell of river water and wet earth, more than almost anything, not entirely pleasant but familiar and happy, a smell like home and family, summer camping trips and long nights under the stars. It reminded them, distantly, of the smell of flooded fields in early summer, of farmland and heat and stagnation and growth, of walking barefoot along tall furrows of earth before planting, of hard rain and thunder. Home. Home like algae and wet fur and cool air and pine sap, like the night and moon and the vast forest spread out before them, beckoning them northward.

Time seemed to slow as they left the river behind and roamed deeper into the forest, the passage of miles marked only by the thunder of their feet hitting the ground, the constant rhythm of their lungs drinking in the chill air, the steady beat of their hearts. They had never run like this before, never experienced  _ anything  _ like this before. They felt unshackled and alive, not fulfilling an obligation, not enduring an unfortunate biological imperative, not trapped in an alien body, or counting the minutes until the moon set them free, but really, truly…

…Happy. They were happy. And for maybe the first time ever, there was no reason to question or doubt the feeling. Bound up as they were, there was no room to hide and no need to. They weren’t alone anymore, and they weren’t afraid, because they were together. Complete. Whole.

Until they weren’t.

Their foot touched down on something metal, and a heavy clang rang through their bones, jerking Abe to a halt and ripping him from Mihashi’s side. The pain in his leg was instant and incredible, but it was nothing compared to the agony of being thrust back into his own mind, into his own body, of having his other half wrenched violently away, like something vital had been torn messily out of the core of him. Mihashi yelped and stumbled, collapsing to the ground just a few paces beyond him, and Abe scrambled towards him. But he couldn’t move, pain spiking in his leg every time he tried to drag himself forward. After a moment of blind struggling, he started to comprehend what had happened. His leg was trapped. He’d stepped on a trap, and it had triggered with enough force that the big metal teeth had bitten into bone, each pointed tip silver-coated and searing his flesh like a hot brand. He cried out, helpless and hurt, and lashed against the trap, unable to force himself to stay still.

His wolf’s frenzied panic bled into his own. He had no idea where they were, or what had just happened, or how much time had passed. He could smell the marks of other wolves, old but numerous, but they were alone for miles in every direction, and hadn’t seen another living creature all n-

Izumi’s warning came back to him in a rush, and his stomach turned. They were far beyond the bounds of his land, deep in rival territory, and alone only because there were hunters on the prowl. And he was trapped.

It was impossible to focus, to think logically, because his animal brain was screaming  _ off off off, run run run _ , panicked and inconsolable, and the rest of him wasn’t far behind. Before he could check the urge, he’d leaned back and closed his teeth around his leg, just above the trap. He stopped just short of biting down, but he wasn’t sure why – they needed to get away, or they were going to die here, and it was better to lose a foot than to lose-

Mihashi grabbed the scruff at the back of Abe’s neck with his teeth and pulled his head back. Abe let his jaw fall open, releasing his leg, and Mihashi held him like that, waiting for him to come back to himself. Abe closed his eyes and panted. Mihashi’s touch didn’t bring surety or calm – he was hurting, too, and was as afraid and confused as Abe – but it filled the gaping hole that had been ripped out of him and muted the burn of the silver in his leg. When Abe’s wolf calmed and he reined in his own thoughts, Mihashi let him go, then paced around behind him to where…

…to where Skoll was standing, stock-still and shaking. She startled back a step when Mihashi approached her, but he chuffed and licked her cheek, then coaxed her down to the ground. Abe could only watch, stunned, as Mihashi nuzzled and soothed his dog, who he’d forgotten was even there. When he thought back, he remembered her running with them, keeping pace at their backs while they ran side by side, picking her way unenthusiastically across a shallow stretch of the river, barking and howling right along with them. But he’d been so wrapped up in Mihashi, he’d hardly given her a second thought. It made a different kind of panic bubble in his stomach, but he didn’t have long to dwell on it before Mihashi stood again, walked a half circle around him, and started pawing at the ground around the trap.

One meltdown at a time. Abe took a slow breath, steadying himself, and looked back at his leg. The trap was one meant for bears, cartoonishly large and doubly illegal with the silver tips, and it had closed right on the ankle joint of his left hind leg. It had been covered over with leaves and set in a shallow hole, the whole area staged to be inconspicuous. Now that he was looking for it, he realized they were in a small clearing on a well-worn trail, a path Kawaii’s pack probably crossed every month. He could smell the faint trace of a human, the person who had set the trap and come and gone hours before, but already the smell was being muddied by the scent of his own blood. The silver teeth of the trap were keeping his body from closing the wound, leaving it to ooze and drip until he could hardly smell anything else.

He dragged himself across the ground to get a better look at the trap as Mihashi uncovered it. Up close, he could see that the silver tips on the teeth were improvised –jewelry or cutlery melted down and dribbled over the points of a standard leg hold trap. The trap itself was massive and heavy, one end of it connected to a thick-linked chain that disappeared under the fallen leaves, probably staked to the ground nearby. He pulled at the chain with his teeth, testing it, but it hardly budged. He tugged again, harder, and the trap shifted, biting deeper into his leg. He yelped, and Mihashi nosed Abe’s head away from the chain, leaning into him and settling down at his side, poised to keep Abe from worrying at his leg.

He could feel the question in Mihashi, and his patient confidence that Abe would know the answer – that he would know what to do – helped ground him and bring him back to himself. He tipped his head back and scented the air. The smell of blood made it hard to be sure, but as far as he could tell, they were alone – at least for the moment. They couldn’t stay here, of course; whoever had set the trap would come to check it eventually, and if they were caught here…

They couldn’t be caught here.

It was illegal to kill werewolves in cold blood, but “legal” mattered a whole lot less in the middle of the woods at night. Humans had the implicit right to protect themselves from the “monsters,” and it was easy enough to claim self defense or ignorance when the only evidence to the contrary was a big, dead wolf. Shifters who dared to fight back were branded a menace, lumped together with the rabid beasts and flesh-eaters, and put down for the danger they posed to their would-be murderers. Naked humans caught outside during the full moon weren’t any safer – those bodies tended to get left deep in the woods, where they were hard to find and harder to identify by the time someone came across them. And Skoll was big enough to pass for a regular wolf, which was as good as a death sentence by itself.

He wasn’t going to let that happen to them. He looked at the trap again and tried to force himself to stay calm. He’d had a handful of patients come in like this before, and he knew how the trap worked – just compress the levers on both sides and the jaws would come open – but it was made of thick, inflexible metal, and for ones this size they usually used heavy duty clamps to get them open, to keep from jarring the person caught in them or accidentally letting the trap snap shut again. He  _ had _ muscled one open by hand once, but it hadn’t been easy, and it hadn’t been  _ his _ leg caught in it. Then again, with Mihashi’s help, maybe… He pressed a paw experimentally against the trap, but before he could put any weight on it, the wind shifted.

They weren’t alone.

There were four, no, five people in the woods to the southeast, fanned out in a loose formation and headed directly for them, already too close. All sense of logic and reason fled. It was only a sharp snap from Mihashi that kept Abe from closing his teeth down on his leg again, and even so he struggled, wildly, until Mihashi moved to stand over him, physically pinning him to the ground. They were going to die. They were going to  _ die _ , and Mihashi didn’t  _ understand _ . Abe whined, breathing hard and squirming, pulling against the trap, but that only sent pain spiking through him, white-hot and blinding.

Mihashi put more weight on him, and growled.

But they had to  _ go _ , they had to  _ run _ , there were  _ hunters _ with  _ guns  _ headed  _ right for them _ and they were  _ going to die _ . They were close, too close, too close for him to get away, now, even if he got free of the trap, but Mihashi could still run. If he ran now, if he left him here, he could get away, he could live, and that would be worth it, it would be worth it to die if it meant he could save his m-

Mihashi bit down on Abe’s ear, hard enough to hurt, hard enough that he could feel the sharp press of teeth denting his skin but not quite breaking it.

It was enough to shock him back to himself, to give him purchase to shove his wolf down and away, to silence the caged animal, until it was only his own fear pounding through him. Mihashi rested his chin on top of Abe’s head, protective and possessive, and settled against him, keeping close and low to the ground. They breathed together, slow and silent and alert. The hunters were spread out wide and moving without purpose; if he and Mihashi didn’t draw their attention, it was still possible they wouldn’t be found. It was the only chance they had, because Mihashi wasn’t going to leave him. If they were going to die, they were going to die together.

The smell of the hunters – alcohol and sweat, cigarettes and gunpowder – gave way to sounds, crunching leaves and boisterous laughter, men shouting through the trees to be heard, making no attempt at stealth. They were probably headed home for the night; the sky was just barely starting to lighten with the coming dawn. Two of the hunters broke off from the group, heading more directly north and shouting jovial curses and insults that were half swallowed up by the distance. The rest of them kept coming, tromping through the bushes in their direction.

Mihashi went tense against his side, and for a moment, Abe was certain he’d lost his resolve – that he’d decided to run. But Mihashi didn’t move, he stilled, a quiet thrum starting up in the center of his chest, humming through their bones and slowly resolving itself into a growl. He wasn’t going to run. He was going to  _ fight _ .

Abe’s blood ran cold. For the first time, he understood why Haruna had been so worried about putting them together: Mihashi had been trained to fight. To kill. It was all he had to fall back on, and now that he felt threatened, he had. He could feel Mihashi’s wolf taking over, the delicate gold vibration of him turning harsh and brass with single-minded determination: he was going to rip apart anything that came near them.

Mihashi rose up, hackles raised and fangs bared, and started advancing, putting himself between Abe and the nearest hunter, and Abe panicked. This was the worst possible thing. Even if the men didn’t have guns, which they did, and even if they weren’t loaded with silver bullets, which they would be, if Mihashi killed a human, no matter the reason, he was going to be put down – probably by one of their own – assuming they managed to survive that long. Abe reached out along the line that connected them, desperate and pleading, frantically trying to pull Mihashi back toward him, grasping for the human part of him – the part that had brought Abe back from the brink, that knew their best chance of survival was to stay hidden. But that Mihashi wasn’t there, subsumed completely by the instinct to fight, the instinct to… protect.

To protect  _ him _ .

Abe pulled against the trap, struggling to get to his feet and letting out a pathetic, agonized little whine. Mihashi hesitated, and Abe reached out with his mind, desperately searching for the calm sense of understanding they’d shared. He had no idea how to recreate it or where it had even come from, but he had to get through to Mihashi, he  _ had _ to. He could hear the hunters getting closer, too close to risk making any further sound, but Abe ignored them and focused all his attention on Mihashi, silently begging him to stand down, to turn back, to run, to do anything,  _ anything _ but attack. Because the only thing worse than the silver bullet waiting for him beyond the trees was the thought of watching Mihashi die in front of him.

It was like tugging at fistfuls of grass, futile and clumsy, until he caught a single golden thread of Mihashi and pulled. Mihashi froze, and the faintest glimmer of understanding rippled between them just as a voice rose up from between the trees. “I swear to god, it was right here. Look! The GPS-”

“Fuck the GPS. We put it on a trail, right?” Abe could feel the rumbling threat coursing through Mihashi, but he stood his ground, rigid and perfectly still. His own heart was hammering in his throat. The hunters couldn’t have been more than a few yards away from them; if it had been any lighter out, they probably would have been close enough to see them.

“Does it really matter?” A third voice asked, sounding tired. “We didn’t spring a single trap all night. Someone obviously tipped the mongrels off that we were coming. We can come back tomorrow and look for it in the daylight, or leave it for next month.”

“Yeah, man. I dunno about you but I don’t want to step on that thing, and I can’t see shit.” Abe heard movement behind him, a faint jingle, and found Skoll standing up, moving cautiously toward the hunters, like she recognized them. Abe went cold with horror.

“It’s gotta be around here somewhere,” the second voice complained. “And if we come back during the day, the dogs might catch us using their access road.” Abe strained against the trap as Skoll passed by him and grabbed her harness with his teeth, halting her and dragging her with him as he collapsed back down to the ground. She let out a startled little chuff, and he closed his eyes and prayed the sound hadn’t carried.

“You wanna stick your head to the ground and look for it, be my guest,” the third voice said. “But don’t come crying to me when it takes half your face off.”

“It’ll hurt like a sonnofabitch,” the first voice confirmed. “My cousin saw some kung-fu motherfucker punch one once, like  _ hyaa! _ , pulled out real fast. He thought he could do it, too, and wound up getting his hand snapped, right on the wrist. Screamed like a little bitch. Took three people to get him out of it, and that was one of the smaller ones.”

“Fuck it, whatever, but you’re driving. I’m too old for this shit.”  _ I’m too old for this shit _ . The way he said it pinged a memory, and Abe realized that  _ he _ recognized the hunter’s voice, too. It was Kurata’s oldest, Takeshi. Which meant the people with him were probably Wada and… Kashima? The Kuratas owned a llama farm farther up the mountain, and the four of them and a few other locals had spent three days that past spring hauling sand bags in heavy rain to keep the river from overflowing the banks and flooding their property. He  _ knew _ them, and was never more grateful that he’d insisted on keeping his family’s real reason for buying the land a secret.

“You’re just mad cuz you wanted to take pot shots at a lykie.” Mihashi’s just-barely-sub-vocal thrum of displeasure trickled over into a low growl. Abe tensed, but it sounded like the voices were moving away from them, not closer.

“Hey fuck you too,” Takeshi said. “It’s about time the biters got a taste of their own medicine, and Yoshi wanted us to test out the new bullets.”

“Pff, Yoshi also wanted us to bring one in live, but Yoshi can suck my dick. If he wants to get his ass bit, next time  _ he _ can spend the night hiking around in the woods. Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” There was a murmur of assent, and then the heavy footsteps started up again, this time heading away from them. Abe stayed perfectly still, listening as the voices started to fade into the distance, but after a few agonizingly slow minutes, Mihashi started to follow them. Abe pulled instinctively against the trap, moving to try to stop him, but the silver bit into him, holding him in place. He wheezed, and whined. They’d gotten away – gotten  _ lucky  _ – so why?

He felt Mihashi reach back to him, a caress like ghostly fingertips in his hair, a whisper of reassurance. Scouting, not pursuing. Making sure the hunters were gone, that Abe was safe, that it was okay to shift back. Abe nodded, slumping to the ground, and then Mihashi was gone, a shadow disappearing into the trees.

He hated it – waiting, being helpless and stuck, unable even to comfort his dog, who was curled up in a small ball at his side, trembling. Without Mihashi there, all he had to focus on was the steady throb of pain in his leg, burning him slowly from the inside and worsening the more he thought about it. As the adrenaline wore off, he started to feel heavy, and when he closed his eyes, he drifted.

* * *

He dreamed of fire, of molten metal moving through his veins, matching the slow timpani of his heartbeat until there was nothing but throbbing heat radiating out from the crushing pressure on his ankle.

* * *

He woke, once, with his face buried in Motoki’s charcoal fur, lungs filled with the ephemeral smell of a mountain viewpoint on a cold, clear morning at dawn. It was close enough to touch – the heights that had eluded him for so long, that he’d almost,  _ almost _ tasted beneath Motoki’s pulse point when he tipped his head back and sighed. And then it slid away from him, like it always had, always just beyond his reach, fingertips grasping and nothing but thin alpine air. For the first time, it didn’t hurt to let it go.

* * *

He heard a voice. The words were broken and fragmented, but the voice was soft and familiar and close, and when he reached for it, a warm, callused hand closed over his paw, thumb stroking the seams between the pads of his foot.

* * *

When his eyes fluttered open, it was to Mihashi kneeling in front of him – human again, and dressed in a pair of blue boxers – delicately petting his head. Abe crooned softly, leaning into the touch, and Mihashi scratched him behind the ears. “Your m-mom is…coming,” he said, smoothing his palm over the curve of Abe’s skull, down the back of his neck. “We need to… uhm, should I… the trap?” Abe turned his head and licked Mihashi’s palm, nuzzling into his hand, and Mihashi started rubbing small circles against his cheeks. “Your mom said. She w-would bring a…bag? But.” He turned his gaze upward. It was morning, already well past dawn, and Abe could feel it: unless he fought it, he was going to start turning back soon.

He closed his teeth very gently down on Mihashi’s thumb and tugged, guiding him over to the trap and putting his hand on one of the levers. His emergency bag had the tools they needed to do this right, but he didn’t want to risk waiting. He didn’t know what would happen if he turned back while his leg was still caught in the trap, and if they did it now, they’d only have to open the trap a few inches to free him.

“Just… push?”

Abe chuffed, affirmative, and braced himself. Mihashi’s face contorted, hardening with concentration and determination. He set both hands firmly on the levers and pushed. The trap shifted, opening an inch. The silver caught, and bent. Abe  _ screamed _ . Mihashi jerked back, startled, and the trap snapped shut again, driving the twisted barbs of silver back into his leg.

For a moment, the pain was so intense that Abe lost track of everything else. His vision narrowed to nothing and his mind emptied, leaving his thoughts distilled and clarified, simple and emotionless. This was bad. Really bad. He was probably going to lose his foot. It probably would have hurt less if Mihashi had just let him chew it off. And they probably would have been home by now if he had.

He only realized his hearing had gone when it came back. “-o sorry, Takaya.” There were arms wrapped tight around his neck, a wet face pressed to his head. “Please, please wake up. Takaya. Takaya.”

Each repetition of his name was like an incantation, like a plucked string, a familiar note, an insistent tug, and-

Oh.

Shit.

He started to unravel. The part of him that was  _ him _ surged to the surface without his coaxing, his body contorting as the change hit him, hard and unexpected. Turning back was something he’d always had to force, his human self clawing and cajoling its way to the surface, fighting against the pull of the moon. This was different, the change coming so fast his body didn’t know what to do with it, arms and legs and spine shifting erratically and out of order, like they’d forgotten how in their haste. Abe yipped in alarm, but Mihashi was already scrambling backwards, away from him, out of reach of his claws.

Then the joint in his left ankle snapped, bones re-aligning, and his vision flashed white. He yelped in startled pain, jerking against the trap as the barbed silver teeth slipped and bit deeper into his joint. There was too much give, his muscles too loose – there was nothing to hold the trap open, no resistance, so the jaws squeezed tighter, wedging into the joint of his ankle and forcing his bones to regrow  _ around _ it. The bones in his leg started to lengthen, grinding down on the trap, and Abe screamed again through half-formed vocal cords until his voice was raw and ruined and his vision faded, darkness pulling him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry :'D
> 
> Also, if you were wondering, “did Abe adopt a dog that reminded him of Haruna?” the answer is yes, yes he did. If you’re wondering whether or not he realizes it, well, I’ll answer that question with a question: Is Abe more desperately unselfaware, or more desperate to be in control?
> 
> Feel free to yell at me at theshannonlewis on twitter and tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me about baseball boys! theshannonlewis on twitter and tumblr


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